How Three Became Four: Book 1
by BountyHunterGirl134
Summary: There's a new girl at Hogwarts, and there are so many questions to be answered: Who is she, what connection does she have to the Blacks, and what's her big secret? But, the bigger problem lies with the threat of Voldemort. Will they survive?  Book 1 of 3.
1. Chapter 1

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

1: Compartment Commotion

The compartment door opened for the third time, following the arrival of Cho Chang and then Ron and Hermione.

A girl stepped in, one Harry had never seen before. She had golden blonde hair that curled as it ran down her frame, ending right above her naval, and her posture was one of someone that had been taught the proper way. Her face was calm, but it seemed like a mask over a bit of frustration. She had a face that angels would envy, flawless and pure. Her piercing gaze was accented by the deepest green eyes Harry had ever seen, even compared to his own.

Harry and the others, except Luna, stared in confusion as her eyes flicked around the room, landing on Harry. Her lips turned up in a smile, sincere but a little on the sarcastic side, reminding Harry of Hermione.

"You know it took me forever to find you."

If the on-lookers faces could have gotten more confused, they would have at that second.

"But, I guess being inside the last compartment on the train might have something to do with it."

She stepped in, shutting the door. She sat down the seat across from Harry, ignoring the strange glances Ron was throwing her.

"Your friend on the platform-" She dug in her robes pocket, extracting a folded sheet of paper,"-asked me to give you this." She handed it over. Harry unfolded it to see the picture of the original Order, the one Sirius had given him. He looked up at her as she gazed at it, the other occupants trying to get a closer look. Her face was in a serene gaze, reminding Harry of Dumbledore.

"He was sweet, but... a bit _shaggy_, I'd say." She cocked her head slightly, giving him a knowing smile. He felt his stomach clench, his eyes widen slightly, as did the rest of the attentive students inside.

She _knew_.

"Who exactly are you?" He asked, his tone tinted with suspision.

Her head straightened, her face remaining calm. "My name's Abigail Black."

The room's temperature seemed to drop, but the girl didn't notice. She kept eye contact with Harry, unwavering and quite unfazed, whereas Harry felt fear and confusion grip his heart.

"Black?" He croaked out.

"As in niece of Sirius Black." She said, her smile getting a little bigger.

Harry was about to shush her, getting slightly angry over his name in a public place, but she was quicker. "Neville here already knows everything the four of you do and Lovegood over there isn't particularly paying attention." As if confirming her point, Luna made no reaction to her name.

Harry felt slightly irritated with the girl, but curious as well. "Your related to him?"

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Yes. My father, Derek, was adopted when he was very young by Sirius's birth mother and took the last name. They attended Hogwarts together, but from what I know, they weren't very close. Then, my dad married my mom Angelina after leaving school."

She bent over the picture Harry still had in his hands. She pointed to a young couple, about the age of Lily and James. Her father was tall and dark headed with a lively face, while her mother was a bit on the short side. Her hair was long like Abigail's and she seemed shy, though she had a nice smile. In the moving picture, her father had his arm around her and she was leaning into him, content with one another.

Abigail's eyes were sad, but a gentle smile remained on her face, matching her mother's. She studied them deeply, not looking up to reveal her expression. "That's them. I had them for about a year, before-" She stopped, swallowing hard. Harry didn't need her to answer to understand.

"What-" Hermione slapped her hand over Ron's mouth, glaring at him with a _'You're so dense!'_ look.

Abigail straightened up. She turned her head, giving him a look that made Harry glad that he wasn't on the recieving end. She straightened, her gaze re-directing to the window as lush scenery passed by.

"Let's just say that Longbottom's not the only one with a history." She said. Ron's face twisted into a confused mask while Neville's face paled considerably.

Ron opened his mouth, most likely to question her, but then the door opened yet again, leaving Harry wishing it hadn't. Harry noticed Abigail's eyes flicker to the door, though her head stayed in place.

"What?" He said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blonde hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," said Harry,"but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville laughed. He saw Abigail's mouth twitch slightly, curving in a small ark. Malfoy's lip curled.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he asked.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Hermione said sharply.

"I seemed to have touched a nerve," said Malfoy, smirking. "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be _dogging_ your footsteps in case you step out of line."

Abigail's head whipped around, fury raising in her eyes. "Shut your mouth and get out, you slimy tramp!" She stood, slamming the door in Malfoy's suprised face.

The other students watched her back, remaining silent and shocked. Her frame was shaking slightly, her breath barely uneven. She sighed deeply and rubbed the side of her head, as if warding off a headache.

"Right, well, I'll see you at school." She opened the door and left, shutting the door without a backwards glance. There was an uncomfortable silence afterwards, but then it went back to normal as Ron asked for a Chocolate Frog, obviously not realizing the depth of what had just happened.

After a little while longer, the train slowed, finally reaching the school's station. Hermione and Ron, as prefects, went to supervise as Harry, Luna, Ginny, and Neville grabbed their things and exited the train onto the grounds. They traveled up the road through Hogsmead, approaching the horseless stagecoaches. Harry glanced briefly at them, then did a double take.

There were creatures reined to the carts, pulling students towards the castle. Harry froze, staring at the.. whatever it was. He started as Ron and Hermione appeared, asking about their animals and ranting about Malfoy. Hermione and Ginny made their way to a carriage, followed shortly by Luna. Harry still stared at the animal.

"What is it?" He asked, nodding at the animal.

"What's what?"

"That. Pulling the carriage."

Ron looked at Harry strangely. "Are you feeling alright, Harry?"

"I...yeah..."

Harry felt bewildered as he followed Ron, entering the stagecoach. He turned his head as he heard footsteps, the others following his gaze.

Abigail walked up the road, clutching a small bag. She took a look at them and then examined the rest of the carriages, biting her bottom lip.

"Hey, do you want to ride with us?" Harry asked, scooting a little farther down the bench. She caught his look, seeming uncertain, and Harry knew she was thinking of her earlier outburst. She took one more look over, then, deciding it was her best option, climbed in next to Harry. The coach made a clicking sound and they started their ride to the school.

The others started conversations, but Harry was watching Abigail. She was looking out, her eyes trailed on a certain spot. Harry saw the creature once again.

"You can see them too, can't you?" He realized.

She nodded, not looking away. "I've read about them. They're called thestrals. They're only visible to those who have seen death."

"Who did you see die?" Harry asked in a low voice, feeling a little insensitive.

It was quiet for a moment and then she spoke, her voice a whisper. "My mum and dad. I can remember everything." Harry noticed her rubbing her wrist but said nothing.

The carriage shuddered to a stop and they all climbed out. The carriages pulled away as they went up the stone steps and into the hallway. Harry sat at the house table, then observed the staff table. He was scared at Hagrid not being there, and voiced his thoughts to Ron and Hermione, who were thinking about the same. Harry also noticed Professor Grubbly-Plank, who must have taken over for Hagrid, and the new teacher, which must have been the Defense Against The Dark Arts replacement.

Then, McGonnagal entered the room, carrying the famous Sorting Hat and stool. As the buzz in the Great Hall died away, she sat the hat on the stool and took a step back. Everyone waited with baited breath as it sat, then the rip opened wide and it began to sing.

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,"_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A House in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the Houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_Let the Sorting now begin._

The hat stopped singing and the hall burst into applause. McGonnagal stepped back up, a list in her hands. Then names went from "Abercrombie, Euan", who was made a Griffindor, to "Zeller, Rose", was put into Hufflepuff. McGonnagal rolled up the list, but left the hat in place as Dumbledore stood.

"Good evening children. Now, before we announce the staff, I have a strange event to announce. This year, here at Hogwarts, we have recieved a transfer student. She will be joining the fifth year and she has agreed to be sorted in front of you. Professor McGonnagal, if you would."

McGonnagal walked to a side door near the staff table. She opened it and stuck her head in, speaking to someone. Her extracted herself as Abigail stepped out, looked calm, but a little stiff.

"Our transfer student, Abigail Black. Mrs. Black, if you please."

No one seemed to notice her last name as she followed McGonnagal to the stool and the professor picked up the hat. She sat and the professor placed it on her head.

The brim opened once more and smiled. Harry saw it moving and guessed it was talking to her; it had talked to him as well. Her eyes never wavered as it spoke, but her lips moved softly, talking back to it.

Then the brim stretched wide with a smile, opened it's mouth, and shouted-

**Ooooohhhhh, a cliff hanger. So sorry, but this was the oportune moment to end it. I'll be posting one week from today: Saturday, 3/19/11, so I'll have the next chapter up on 3/26/11. OK, remember to review.**


	2. Chapter 2

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

2: A Limited History

_Then the brim stretched wide with a smile, opened it's mouth, and shouted-_

"GRIFFINDOR!"

**(You all probably knew this, but I could have stuck her in Hufflepuff. It was considered.)**

The hall filled with loud applause, coming from the other house tables as well. Harry cheered with everyone else, whooing in encouragement.

Abigail grinned and stood, removing the hat. She gave it to McGonnagal and then ran down to the table, stopping with a searching look on her face. Her eyes darted to the unknowns around her.

Harry raised his hand and waved. She caught sight of it and the grin returned. She made her way down, sitting between Harry and one of the Weasley twins.

"Thanks." She said, as everyone turned their attention back to Dumbledore.

"Well, now that that's settled," he spoke again,"we have two changes in staffing this year. We are pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures, while Professor Hagrid is on temporary leave.

"We also wish to welcome our new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dolores Umbridge. And I'm sure you'll join me in wishing the professor 'Good Luck'.

"Now, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you-"

"Hem hem."

Everyone's attention was directed to Umbridge as she stood, her face twisted into what looked like a polite gaze, though it mostly looked to be a very forced smile. She made her way around the table, obviously intent on making a speech.

Harry took a closer look and recognized her face. "She was at my hearing. She works for Fudge."

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome." She started, coming to a stop in front of the tables. "And how lovely to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me. I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."

"That's likely." The twins mumbled, making a few students giggle.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and pruning practices that ought to be prohibited." She ended with a girly giggle that would identify as very creepy, her smile still stuck in place.

Dumbledore clapped, as did most of the audience in polite respect, as Umbridge made her way back to the staff table.

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge, that really was most illuminating."

"Illuminating?" Ron said as Dumbledore continued. "What a load of waffle."

"What's it mean?" Harry asked.

"It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts." Hermione said, her eyes still on the front of the room.

As Dumbledore finished, students went back to eating and chatting, fitting in stories and pudding before curfew. Harry looked at Abigail, whose mouth was turned into a deep frown as she stared at Umbridge.

"Aren't you hungry?" He asked her.

She turned her attention to him, her expression relaxing. "No, they had some house-elves bring me food from the kitchens while I was in the back room. It was very good, excellent cookers, they are."

"Hello, transfer student, I'm Fred and that's George." The twin beside her stuck out his hand and she shook, then shaking with George.

"So, why didn't you come to Hogwarts until now?" Fred asked, taking a treacle tart.

"I, um... went to another school." Harry noticed her hesitence, but said nothing. "After Voldemort was destroyed, Tonks moved back to her home. Hogwarts was farther away, so she sent me to a closer school, just in case I needed her." Abigail smiled, covering up her hurried and worried expression **(Rhyming :D)**. "She's an amazing person. Funny and sweet, always making sure I had what I needed." Her smile faded again. "But, since Voldemort returned, she convinced Professor Dumbledore to continue my education here."

"You live with Tonks?" George asked.

"Oh, yes." She lowered her voice so only the six of them could hear. "I would have gone to live with Sirius, but he was convicted shortly afterwards, being when Harry's family was attacked. We're nearly the same age; I'm only a few days before him. So, instead I went to live with Tonks since Sirius's mother was already dead. We're not blood related, third cousins or something."

"I didn't know you were related to Sirius." Fred said.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you didn't know. I'm his niece, but my mother and father are dead." Harry was suprised at how calmly she said the word, looking no different than before. "My dad had approved Tonks as guardian after Sirius and his mother in case something happened to them."

"Smart move." Ron said, swallowing his pudding.

"Yeah... hey, Hermione, what's the Common Room password?" Abigail asked.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_. Why?" Hermione questioned suspisiously.

"I was thinking of going to the library before curfew and I needed the password to get inside the tower." She stood up from the table.

"Anybody else want to?" She asked. She kept her voice normal, but she gave Harry a meaningful look.

"Er, yeah, I'll come too." Harry said, getting the hint and standing as well.

"What?" Ron exclaimed, but Harry ignored him, following Abigail out of the hall. He heard the whispers and saw people pointing, but he ignored them, as did Abigail.

It didn't take long to reach the library. Harry was suprised that she knew where to go and how to get there, but then, he figured, they wouldn't send her off without directions.

Abigail led him to a secuded corner, though the room was only occupied by a few people. She stopped so abruptly that he started, earning a dark look from Madam Pince.

"OK, I know you may have realized this, but I believe you, you know?" She said. "About Voldemort."

"Uh, thanks." Harry said, taking note of the name.

"And, as to why I drug you to the library, it's because I needed to speak with you in private." She sat, watching him expectantly. He sat across from her and waited for her to gather her thoughts.

"As I said before, Tonks had to convince Dumbledore to let me join the school. I think he wants me to keep a close eye on you, being a small part of the Order and all. I just wanted to tell you, so you don't think wrongly of me if I seem to follow you." Her mouth twitched. "He seems very... worried. I've met Dumbledore before and he's a relatively calm man, but now, it's like he's waiting for something."

"He might be, with all the missing people lately."

"Exactly. I agree with Sirius: I think Voldemort is after something. Something that wasn't there before, but it is now, whatever that may be."

She gave Harry a dark look, one so serious and determined it almost scared him. "There's going to be a war, Harry, I can feel it. I may not know you well, but I know that this is bigger than you and Fudge; this is the world."

Harry nodded, his mouth curved downward. He felt comfortable towards this girl, trustworthy. She knew what was happening and she didn't seem afraid.

But looks can be deciving.

"So, I guess... that's it." She stood and he did as well. "To the tower, then?" He nodded, still half in his thoughts.

They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing loudly in the corridors. They had to hide in a classroom once to avoid Peeves, but the rest of the trip was smooth. The halls were deserted and, as they reached the Fat Lady, they could hear students inside chatting loudly.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_." Abigail said and the portrait swung open, smiling kindly at her new occupant. They stepped in and the chatter seemed to die, all eyes focused on Harry.

He walked towards the stairs, followed by Abigail and once again ignoring the whispers around him. He stopped by the stairs, looking back at Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan.

"Dean, Seamus, good holiday?" He asked, trying to be polite.

"Alright. Better than Seamus's, anyway." Dean replied.

Seamus put down his newspaper, standing up from his chair and facing Harry.

"My mum didn't want me to come back this year."

"Why not?" Harry asked, perfectly aware of the answer.

"Let me see," Seamus started, sarcasim filling his voice,"eh, because of you. The Daily Prophet's been saying a lot of things about cha', Harry, and about Dumbledore as well."

"What, and your mom believes them?"

"Well, nobody was there the night Cedric died." Seamus said.

"Oh, well I guess you should read the Prophet then, like your stupid mother, it'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!"

"I'll have a go at anyone that calls me a lier." Harry replied defiantly.

"What's going on?" Ron came in. He walked by Seamus, stopping next to Harry and Abigail.

Seamus pointed at Harry. "He's mad is what's goin' on. Do you believe the rubbish he's comin' on about You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah, I do." He examined the people that had become an audience. "Has anyone else got a problem with Harry?" No one spoke up, the room silent.

Harry turned and went up the steps towards his dorm, Ron following. In the common room, Abigail stared up the stairs after him. No one had moved, their eyes now locked on her.

"And you?" Seamus asked, his irritation still ringing in his voice.

She turned, locking eyes with him. "What about me?"

"You believe him too?"

"Yes." She said with no hesitation.

"Why?" Seamus asked, his tone filled with exasperation. The room was still quiet, waiting for the answer.

"Because, I know who the liers are. Harry's faced Voldemort three times before; this is no different." She ignored how people gasped and flinched at the name. "I believed all the stories; why stop now?"

Her question seemed to hang over the students, covering them like a blanket. She turned and went up the stairs to her dorm, leaving the Griffindors in disaray of their newest member, and imagining a year with her.

They were in for a heck of a ride.

**OK, I know these chapters have been kind of boring, but I have to really work up the story to a climax. Not much happens in beginnings, so these first few may be under-expectations.**

**Next Update: Sooner than last time. I'm sorry for the inconvinence. The website wasn't working properly.**


	3. Chapter 3

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

3: First Day Back

Abigail was already at the Griffindor table when the trio entered the Great Hall the next morning. The students near her seemed to make a wide berth as Harry approached, but she just looked up from her schedule, giving him a smile. He couldn't stop from smiling back, no matter his irritable mood; she definitley had some Sirius in her.

He settled himself down next to her and Ron and Hermione sat across from them. Abigail rolled her schedule up and put it aside, then shuffling her arm around in her bag. She removed three scrolls like hers.

"Here," she said, holding them out, "Professor McGonnagal told me to give you your schedules." The three took them, unrolling them as Abigail sipped her drink, looking expectant.

She smirked as Ron groaned loudly. She set her cup down. "I know," she said, "that's what I said."

"Who would put Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and Umbridge all in the same day? It's mad, I tell you." Hermione rolled her eyes, setting her scroll down as Angelina approached. Harry set his down as well and looked up at her.

"Hi, Angelina."

"Hey Harry. Have a good summer?" He hadn't even opened his mouth when she began again. "Listen, I'm Quidditch Captain this year."

"Nice one." Harry said, grinning.

"Congratulations." said the girl next to him.

Angelina was momentarily distracted. "Uh, thanks. You're that new exchange student, aren't you?"

"That's right." Abigail said, still sporting a friendly smile. She held out her hand and Angelina took it, exchanging inviting looks. "Abigail Black, but I'd rather you called me Abbie."

"Abbie, then." Angelina confirmed. "I'm Angelina, Angelina Johnson."

"Pleasure to meet you." Abigail said, dropping her hand.

Angelina turned back to Harry. "Okay, Harry, since we need a new Keeper, try-outs will be on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there."

"Got it, _Captain_." Harry, in a bit of a playful mood, mock saluted her. She cracked a grin as she walked back down the table.

"Be strange without Wood, huh?" Ron commented between bites of food.

Then the mail owls swooped into the Great Hall, carrying all the packages from home. Harry's bad mood returned as, not only was there no reply from Sirius, but an owl landed in front of Hermione, a _Daily Prophet_ clutched in it's beak.

"Why are you still getting that thing?" Harry asked. "It's all rubbish."

"It's best to know what the enemy's doing." She replied before disapearing behind it. She didn't come up until the other three had almost finished eating.

"Nothing. Not even about you or Dumbledore." She said, rolling it up and putting it aside.

"So, how hard d'you reckon this year's going to be?" Harry asked. "With the O.W.L.s and everything?"

"Probably tough, mate. O.W.L.s affect your jobs and careers and stuff." Ron said, finishing his food.

"Definitley." Abigail commented, wiping her face clean. "O.W.L.s are the root of your life. Then, N.E.W.T.s, graduation, and boom," she threw her hands in a small but wild gesture, "you're out of here."

"So, do any of you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?" Harry asked as they exited the Great Hall and headed towards History of Magic.

"Not really, but... well..." Ron said, his face pinking.

"Yeah?" Harry urged.

"I thought it'd be cool to be an Auror." Ron admitted in a low voice.

"Definitley." Abigail commented.

"But, they're the elite." Ron said. "You have to be really good. Hermione?" He asked.

"I don't know, I'd probably do something worthwhile."

"An Auror's worthwhile." Harry protested.

"I know, but it's not the only thing." Hermione said, though looking unconcerned. "What about you, Abigail?"

"Okay, first," Abigail held up a finger, "it's Abbie." She put her hand down.

"Okay, _Abbie_," Hermione said, exaggerating the name in a way that made them all smirk, "have any jobs in mind?"

Abigail looked off, biting her lip. She was silent for a moment before she spoke. "I... I guess I never really thought about it. I agree with Ron, though, I think being an Auror would be an amazing achievement. But, other than that...," she looked conflicted, "I've never really considered."

Harry could tell that she felt uncomfortable, but didn't dwell on it. They entered the classroom and took their seats. Abigail sat next to Harry, by the window, her face returning to normal.

History of Magic had to be the most boring class ever created by Wizard-kind, and just made worse as their teacher, Professor Binns, had the voice that could anyone to sleep. The only exception seemed to be Hermione, who was always scribbling notes down.

So Harry was suprised when he re-opened his eyes about fifteen into the lesson and saw Abigail writing notes as fast as Hermione, her eyes open and attentive. He wasn't the only one to notice; some of the others around him were looking at her in an interested and confused fashion.

It was only made more confusing when, at the end of the lesson, Harry discovered that Abigail had written more notes than Hermione herself, and her writing was, by the look of it, tinier than Hermione's as well. Harry decided not to mention this, almost afraid of Hermione's reaction.

They all went outside for the break, sitting themselves under a balcony where they could keep dry. Harry, Ron, and Hermione started talking about what Snape was likely to torchure them with, and Abigail pulled out a book, getting lost inside it. Harry looked over and noticed what it was.

"Is that a library book?" He asked.

She didn't look away from it as she answered. "Yes, why?"

"You already went to the library today." He said, more of a statement then a question.

"I did."

"How early do you get up?"

"Dawn." She answered simply, turning a page. "Sometimes earlier."

Ron's mouth dropped and Hermione looked slightly suprised, like she couldn't believe that anyone was up earlier than her.

"So you got up at dawn, then went to the library and got to breakfeast, all before seven o'clock?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"That's right."

Ron shook his head. "That's inhuman, that is."

Harry thought he saw her eyes flit towards Ron, but was distracted by someone coming around the corner.

"Hello, Harry!" Cho Chang said, smiling at him.

"Hi, Cho," Harry answered, feeling his face grow hot, "so... did you have a good summer?"

"It was... alright." She averted his eyes. Instead, they locked onto Abigail. "Oh, is this the new exchange student?"

Abigail gave Harry a _oh-come-on _sort of look, but rolled her eyes and shook Cho's hand, who noticed the exchange and looked confused and a little defensive. "Oh, nothing personal, but everyone's calling me that. News seems to pass faster than names." Abigail smiled. "I'm Abigail, but I go by Abbie."

"Abbie." Cho said briefly and turned away. "So, see you, Harry." She seemed almost eager to get away and Harry felt something like disapointment in his stomach.

He heard the bell and stood, followed by the others. As they made their way to the dungeon's, Harry wondered how exactly Cho felt about him.

She obviously didn't hate him for what happened in the maze, but her feelings were a mystery to him. But she had come to talk to him, and it hadn't been necessary, so he felt a small bit of hope start to bubble inside of him, something that even the cold and dark of Snape's classroom couldn't diminish, though it filled him with the familiar feeling of hatred that he experienced every time he was around the teacher.

"Settle down." Snape said quietly, slamming the dungeon door shut. The class quieted; you could hear a pin drop in the room. He stroad up the aisle to the front of the classroom.

He started by lecturing them on O.W.L.s and his expectations for them. Then he set the assignment: Draught of Peace. The four got their ingredients and began the potion.

Nearing the end of the lesson, Harry's cauldron was issuing dark gray steam and Ron's was shooting green sparks. Hermione's, of course, was the pecfect shade of silver, and so was Abigail's. As Snape swept by, he looked in Hermione and Abigail's cauldrons and, finding nothing to criticize, moved on. He stopped at Harry's and his lip curled.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?" The class looked up, all eyes on the pair.

"The Draught of Peace." Harry said.

"Tell me, Potter, can you read?" Harry could hear Draco Malfoy laughing, but his anger seemed to beat in his ears.

"Yes, I can." He defended.

"Read the third line of instructions for me, Potter."

Harry peered at the blackboard through the mist and said, "Add powered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore."

His stomach clenched: he had forgotten the hellebore.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No. I forgot the hellebore..."

"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco_."

Harry's cauldron cleared. Harry cleared away his things as the other students corked their own potions and placed them on Snape's desk. As soon as the bell rang, he was out of the dungeon before anyone else and was already eating lunch by the time the other three arrived.

Correction: other _two_.

"That was totally unfair!" Hermione ranted. "Goyle's was much worse than yours. His robe caught on fire, for Merlin's sake!"

"Yeah, well, when's Snape ever been fair to me?" He asked.

Nobody answered; they all understood the un-definable hate that passed between the two.

"Maybe he'll be different this year." Hermione said in a low voice. "Since he's in the Order and everything."

Ron snorted at the idea, spewing a bit of food. "Yeah, right. I always thought Dumbledore was a bit cracked for trusting Snape."

"Dumbledore has his reasons Ron, even if he doesn't decide to share them with you!" Hermione snapped back.

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry interrupted. "Oh, shut up, the both of you." The turned to him, looked offended. "Can't you give this a rest? You're always having a go at each other; it drives me mad." Then, he got up and left them there, speechless.

He traveled up to the North Tower and, to his suprise, found the trapdoor wide open. He climbed up into the room and scanned it.

His eyes landed on the only other inhabitant: Abigail. She sat calmly, reading her book on a table near the window. He walked over and sat down next to her, but she didn't look up, engrossed in the novel.

"Why weren't you at lunch?" He asked her. She marked her place, shut the book, and looked up at him.

"I wasn't hungry. And by the look on your face, I think I missed something bad."

His frown deepened. "Ron and Hermione were rowing again."

She snickered. "Again? Do they fight often?"

He raised her eyebrow at her and she grinned. "Oh, I get it." She nodded, her smile still in place. "They like each other."

Harry felt confusion replace his fear, but before he could question her, Trelawney walked in, her eyes magnified by her glasses.

"Ah, hello Harry." She greeted. "I see you've met our new student."

"Oh... oh, yeah." He said. "Yesterday."

"Ah, just as I saw. You will definitely be great friends. "

He rolled his eyes and Abigail smirked as she walked away. Then, the class started to file in and Abigail put her book in her bag.

Ron walked in, pulling up another chair. "Hermione and me have stopped arguing." He said as he sat next to Harry.

"Good." Harry said blandly. In the corner of his eye, Abigail was looking away, trying to contain a smile, though not doing a very good job.

"But Hermione said it'd be nicer if you'd stop taking your anger out on us." Ron said. He held up his hands as Harry opened his mouth to argue. "Just passing the message."

They stopped as Trelawney started the lesson. She started, as they felt the other teachers would, by explaining the importance of the O.W.L.s. Then, she had them read each others dreams, which did not go well, and ended with them having to keep a dream diary for a month.

They left the classroom and headed towards the Defense Against The Dark Arts class. They met up with Hermione on the way and they all walked together, rolling their eyes at Ron's homework rant.

As they entered the room, they saw Professor Umbridge had not yet arrived. They sat down, Abigail taking the seat next to Hermione and talked quietly while the rest of the class were playing around. One of the Patil twins enchanted a paper bird and flew it around the room. Abigail and Hermione looked up with smiles as it passed by before Seamus rose up and hit it off course. The bird flew a loop around the chandiler and was floating over the Patil's desk again when it caught on fire and dropped back onto her desk with a slow, silent thud.

**And yet, more cliffhangers. I may do this all the time to annoy people. JK, I'm 50/50 on the hangers, so it'll be a "make it up as we go along" kinda thing.**

**Next Update: 4/16/11**


	4. Chapter 4

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

4: Professor Umbridge

Umbridge lowered her wand from it's previous place, where the bird had had it's last flight.

"Good morning, children." She began.

Everyone turned in their seats to the back of the room and where she stood. She started her walk up the aisle, flicking her wand at the blackboard. Words appeared on the board as she spoke, spelling:

Ordinary

Wizarding

Levels

"Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations. O.W.L.s." She finished, reaching the front of the room. "More commonly known as O.W.L.s." She said. Her tone was pushy and a bit mocking, and Harry felt as though he were a five year old.

"Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be severe." She gave a little shrug on the last word, still holding her smile.

She flicked her wand at a stack of books behind her and they started to float down the aisles, distributing books to each students. Harry looked at Hermione and Abigail's table and saw their expressions as they each got a book: confused. As they reached Harry, he found out why; these were "_Basics for Beginners_" books. Beginners?

"Your previous instruction in this subject has been disturbingly uneven. But, you'll be pleased to know from now on you will be following a carefully structured, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Yes?"

Everyone looked up from their books as Hermione lowered her hand. "There's nothing in here about using defensive spells."

"Using spells?" Umbridge gave a little laugh. "Well, I can't imagine why you would _need_ to use spells in my classroom."

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron questioned.

"You will be _learning_ about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way." She reasoned.

"Well, what use is that? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free." Harry said.

"Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class." She turned her back on him and walked back up the aisle. Then she turned again, and smiled **(Go Figure. :P)**. "It is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowlege would be sufficent to get you through your examinations, which, after all, is what school is all about."

"And how's theory supposed to prepare us for what's out there?" Harry questioned.

"There is nothing out there, dear." She said. Her freakish smile was still there, but her tone was becoming exasperated. "Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe Lord Voldemort?" Harry said. Harry could hear the whispers start, but he didn't pay attention; his irritation was getting in the way.

Umbridge's smile looked more forced than ever. "Now, let me make this quite plain." Her voice was low and the room was silent. She started down the aisle next to Harry's seat. "You have been told that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This. Is. A. Lie."

"It's not a lie! I saw him, I fought him!" Harry argued.

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge said, turning back towards the front of the room.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident." Her smile was gone now.

"It was murder! Voldemort killed him! You must know that!"

"ENOUGH!" She shouted. Everyone stared as she regained her composure. "Enough." She spoke more calmly. She turned her head as a hand went up. "Yes, Miss?"

Abigail's hand lowered. Her face was set. "Excuse me, Professor, but I think that Harry has the right to express his opinion, whether you or the Ministry likes it or not." Everyone looked at her with suprised eyes, even Harry. She was standing up for him.

Umbridge stared at her for a few seconds longer, then turned back to Harry, ignoring Abigail's statement. "See me later, Mr. Potter. My office." She gave another laugh, but her face held traces of the fight that had just happened.

* * *

Dinner that evening was not pleasant.

Harry sat in silence as the whispers passed around him. Everyone in the castle had quickly learned about Harry's shouting match with Umbridge. The rumor seemed to pass faster than normal, and now everyone was talking about it; Harry could even hear the Griffindors whispering back and forth.

He didn't care.

He was angry with Umbridge. Nearly enraged, in fact. How could Umbridge not see the truth when it was right in front of her?

"What I don't get," he said to the others, "is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them..."

"Harry, I don't think they did." Hermione said. She took another bite of her pie, but her face turned to disgust. "Oh, let's get out of here. This is annoying."

She stood up quickly and headed towards the doors. Ron looked sadly at his pie, but followed suit. Harry got up from the other side of the table and trailed them, Abigail at his side. Eyes followed them all the way out.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. She had agreed to join the three for dinner, but she had been exceptionally quiet. She hadn't touched her food and she kept her head down, her long hair obscuring her face from view.

The two caught up with Ron and Hermione on the staircase.

"What d'you mean your not sure if they believed Dumbledore?"

"I mean, you don't understand what it was like after it happened," she said quietly. "You came back with Cedric's dead body. Nobody knew what had happened in the maze and we just had to take Dumbledore's word for it, and before the truth could sink in, everyone went home where they were told that you were nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!"

They walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the Common Room, Hermione, Ron, and Abigail stepped in, while Harry stayed out. As the portrait hole closed, he saw Abigail's eyes hit his for a second, filled with...

The hole closed, leaving Harry alone in the corridor. He stared for a moment longer, then started to drag his feet, heading towards the DADA office.

He knocked as he reached the room, trying to push down any of his remaining anger.

"Come in." He heard and he opened the door, stepping into the pinkest room he had ever seen.

The desk, cabinets, even the trash bin was a shade of pink and had a dollie around it. The walls were covered with brightly painted plates that contained a cat each. The cats moved around, flitting between the other's plates like the portraits in the school.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter." He turned his eyes on her. She was calm and controled, looking as though he were only there for tea.

"Sit." She instructed, nodding her head at a desk beside hers. He shut the door and walked over, her eyes watching his every move.

"You're going to be doing some lines for me today, Mr. Potter." He started to reach into his bag, but her voice stopped him.

"No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine." She stood and walked over, placing a large black quill on top of his paper.

"Now," she said as he picked up the quill, positioning himself to write, his other hand curled into a fist on the table,"I want you to write _'I must not tell lies.'_."

"How many times?" He asked.

"Well, let's say, for as long as it takes for the message to sink in."

He was confused, but said nothing. He was about to write, but found something was missing. He turned around to see her back, her face towards the wall.

"You haven't given me any ink."

She looked at him. "Oh, you won't need any ink." Then she turned again to face the plates adjourning her wall.

Still confused, he turned back. He started to write and found that he indeed did not need ink, for the quill seemed to be producing it himself.

After the first line, his hand started to tingle. He flexed and stretched it, trying to ignore it as he started to write the next line, but his hand felt hot, like something was burning into it. He gasped as it became worse. He pulled his eyes away from the parchment and they landed on his hand.

The nervous feeling inside of him intensified. As he watched, words carved themselves into his skin on the back of his hand. His hand jerked a bit in pain, but he still said nothing, watching the words finish.

_I must not tell lies._

He looked at the quill in shock, then looked at Umbridge as she walked past his desk and stopped in front of him. She face reflected pity onto him.

"Yes?" She asked quietly.

He just shared a look with her, holding it for a few seconds. He swallowed. "Nothing."

"That's right." She said, leaning towards him with a faked motherly smile. "Because you know, deep down, you deserve to be punished. Don't you, Mr. Potter?" He only stared, watching her smile stretch and thin.

"Go on."

**PEEK-A-BOO! I SEE EVIL INCARNATE! :D :D :D**

**Next Update: 4/23/11**


	5. Chapter 5

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

5: Closer and Closer

The Griffindor Common Room was extremely noisy when Harry came back from his detention. Long music rang through the entire tower, making Harry's eardrums start to pound.

Harry saw the Weasley twins first. They were selling products out of a box with _Weasley and Weasley _printed on it's top. They pulled out boxes, labeled _Skieving Snackboxes_, and removed small pill-shaped objects. They handed them to waiting children, who swallowed them, and, as Harry watched, the kids started developing different symtoms for diesases or sicknesses. One of the kid's faces became extremely red, one's chin enlarged greatly, and another grew boils.

Harry flinched as his hand gave a nasty throb. He had wrapped his hand in some toilet paper from the nearest bathroom, but his hand was still red and raw, blood seeping slowly through the covering.

He examined the room, looking desperatley for an open seat so he could start his homework. His eyes landed on the end of an empty couch and he started over, ignoring more eyes.

As he walked over, he found that the other side of the couch was, in fact, occupied. A girl sat with her back against the armrest, her feat curled next to her. A book was open in front of her nose, and at first, Harry suspected Hermione, but on closer examination, found that it was Abigail.

She looked up when he sat down on the other side of the sofa. Her eyes flicked to his hand and her eyes grew wide.

"Merlin!" She exclaimed. She dropped her book and jumped up from her spot. She bolted up the girl's dormitories stairs and was gone within seconds.

He sat in confusion for a moment, his eyes glued to the place where she disapeared. He was about to turn around, when she appeared again, clutching a cloth in one hand and a bottle in another. The cloth was clean, but the bottle was filled with a murky yellow liquid. She sat down next to him, their shoulders about two inches apart. She put her things on the coffee table next to the couch.

Then, without warning, she grabbed his hand in a firm, but easy grip. She placed it in her lap, them took the bottle and the cloth. She put some of the yellowish liquid on the cloth, then set the bottle aside. She put the cloth next to her and took his hand again, which he had been too confused to move. She unwrapped the bloody bandage and moved it, looking a bit sick at the sight. She moved his hand in one of hers and with the other, re-took the cloth.

Finally, her movements slowed, no longer at a rushing pace. She softly placed the cloth on his injured hand and he felt a sudden surge of relief.

"Um, thanks." He complied. She nodded as she worked. Her hand was gentle as she cleaned the wound. "What is that stuff anyway?"

"A solution of strained and picked murlap tentacles." She responded. "It's, well, magical." She smirked a bit at her own joke, but then her face fell back into an anxious look, her eyes fixed on his hand. They sat in silence for a moment before words came tumbling out of her mouth, swift as a waterfall.

"I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! If I hadn't... I mean... if I'd not said what I said-"

"Wait, wait wait!" He interrupted her ramblings. "This isn't your fault."

She looked up at him for the first time and he saw the guilt ridden in her eyes. "Yes, it is! I only irritated her further and she gave you detention! I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Look, Abbie," Harry said as her face turned back down, "this wasn't your fault. Umbridge gave me detention because I went against what the Ministry is saying about me. She had given me detention already. Besides," he added, "I really appreciated what you said."

She looked up at him again. "Really?"

He felt a little suprised at how clueless she looked. "Yeah. It meant a lot."

Her head ducked as a light blush covered her cheeks. "No problem." She mumbled, returning to her nurse act.

They had another silent moment, Abigail dabbing at Harry's hand while he watched her face, expressionless. He had never been very good around girls, but, if she was as much like Hermione as she thought he was, this may work.

His head turned to her discarded novel. "Is that a new book?"

Her lips turned up at his random topic. "Yes, yes it is."

"How did you finish the other already?" He asked in exasperation.

Her mouth curved into a full smile now. "Yeah. It wasn't particularly big. For me anyways. I love reading big books."

"I guessed that much."

She looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow, her face giving off an amused expression that he couldn't help but to grin at.

"So... what's your favorite color?" He asked.

"Well, I like green, it's a lovely color." Abigail said. "But, blue is at the top of my list. I think dark blue is really very pretty. What about you?"

"I've always liked red."

She smirked again. "Figures."

His smile felt permanent. "So, favorite food?"

"Definitely pasta."

"Really?"

"Of course." She said brightly. "And you?"

"Chicken."

She rolled her eyes. "Boys and meat. I just don't understand it."

Now they were both grinning.

"Favorite animal?" Abigail asked.

"Muggle or wizard?"

"Pick one."

"Probably owls." He answered, thinking of Hedwig.

"Yeah. As for me, I've always had a soft spot for cats." She laughed lightly as Crookshanks suddenly appeared, rubbing against her leg.

"Favorite sport?" Harry questioned.

They were both silent for one second before answering together. "Quidditch."

They had another short moment of silence before they started laughing. There really was no apparent reason, but just to laugh and enjoy the moment. Harry hadn't felt this relaxed in... well, a long time.

Her hand stopped moving on his and then the cloth was gone, making his hand ache again. She dried his hand with the clean end of the cloth and then put it on the table with the bottle. Then, she seemed to realize how close together they were and she quickly released his hand and moved away. She gathered up her things and walked around the couch, heading for the girl's dormitories without another word. Harry decided to start his homework, and as he got his Potions textbook out, Harry heard Hermione and Ron's voices.

"I'm not asking you to right all of it for me." came Ron's.

"Oh, please." Hermione's voice responded.

"It's just... I've been studying for these stupid O.W.L. exams." Ron came back.

"I'll do the introduction. That's all." Hermione gave in. They finally entered the room, heading for the couch Harry was seated on.

"Hermione, you're honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met." Ron complimented as the two joined Harry, Hermione on his left and Ron on his right. "If I'm ever rude to you again-"

"I'll know you've gone back to normal." Hermione said. Her eyes flickered to Harry and then down to his left hand, the one holding the edge of his book. Her expression grew confused.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

He pulled up his right hand, placing it on the book. "Nothing." He tried to pass off.

"The other hand." She responded. She grabbed his left one, pulling back the sleeve covering most of it. Her expression grew outraged.

"You've got to tell Dumbledore." She said in an urgent voice.

"No." He said immetiatley. "Dumbledore's got enough on his mind right now." He turned his attention back to his book. "Anyway, I don't want to give Umbridge the satisfaction."

"Bloody hell, Harry, the woman's torturing you." Ron tried to reason. "If your parents knew about this-"

"Yeah, well, I haven't got any of those, have I, Ron?" Harry replied, feeling aggitated once more.

There was an awkward silence. Hermione drew in a sharp breath. "Harry, you've got to report this. It's perfectly simple. You're being-"

"No, it's not." Harry cut her off. "Hermione, whatever this is, it's not simple." She just stared.

"You don't understand." He said, shutting his book and shoving it in his bag.

"Then help us to." Hermione said, with no answer.

Harry picked up his bag and stood, walking away from his two best friends.

**I love this story. :D**

**Next Update: 4/30/11**


	6. Chapter 6

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

6: Another Day, But the Same Way

When Harry went to breakfeast the next morning, Abigail was again the first to have arrived. Her hair had been elegantly pulled back into a bun, and having so much hair, the bun was about the size of a soup bowl, maybe larger. She set down her book, greeted the three, and then proceded to eat breakfeast with them, which she had in fact waited to do until they arrived.

They had Double Charms and Double Transfiguration on Tuesdays, and both were extremely difficult. Professor Flitwick lectured them on O.W.L.s, as every teacher was doing, and then reviewed them by going over Summoning Charms, and rounded it off by setting them their largest batch of homework ever to be given in their Charms class. Professor McGonagall also reminded them of the importance of O.W.L.s, which was starting to bore Harry, and then put them on Vanishing Spells, which were extremely difficult. Hermione was the only one who completely vanished her snail, with Abigail close behind, accidentally leaving half the shell behind.

Since they didn't do it before, Harry and Ron spent their lunch break looking up the uses of moonstones in potion-making for Snape from the previous day's essay. Harry questioned Ron over it, but he just muttered something about "doing other stuff". They exited the library and found Abigail and Hermione waiting for them, holding sandwiches and smirks. They ate on the way to Care of Magical Creatures, thanking the girls.

Harry was deeply disapointed to find that Hagrid had not yet returned to Hogwarts. In accordance, Griffindors shared Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, much to Harry's displeasure. Everyone gathered around a table beside Professor Grubbly-Plank. On the table was a row of twigs.

"Everyone here?" Professor Grubbly-Plank called. ""Let's crack on then- who can tell me what these things are called?" She asked, indicating the heap of twigs next to her.

Not suprisingly, Hermione's hand was in the air first. But, right behind hers, was Abigail's, who looked patient and controlled.

"Yes, Miss Black?" Hermione retracted her hand slowly, looking a bit disapointed.

"They're bowtruckles, ma'am," Abigail said politely, "They're known as tree-guardians, usually living in wand trees. They normally eat wood lice, but fairy eggs if they can manage."

"Good girl; ten points to Griffindor." Grubby-Plank responded. "Yes, these are bowtruckles and they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. It is wise to have wood lice on hand whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, to distract of placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle- I have enough for groups of one between three or four- you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

The class came forward, partering up and retreiving supplies. Harry circled around so that he ended up next to the Professor.

"Where's Hagrid?" He asked her.

"Never you mind." She said, which was the same attitude she had used last time Hagrid hadn't shown.

A smirk plastered on his face, Malfoy reached around Harry, grabbing the biggest bowtruckle.

"Maybe the stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured." He mumbled in an undertone.

"Maybe you will if you don't shut up." Harry replied.

"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift." Malfoy responded before walking away.

Harry felt sick. Did Malfoy know something? His father was a Death Eater, after all; what if he had information about Hagrid that had not yet reached the Order? Fairly annoyed, Harry hurried over to Ron, Hermione, and Abigail, who were attempting to persuade a bowtruckle to stand still long enough for them to draw it. He sat down, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, and told the others what Malfoy had just said.

"Dumbledore would know if something happened to Hagrid," Hermione said at once. "It's just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried, it tells him we don't know exactly what's going on. We've got to ignore him, Harry."

"Could you hold the bowtruckle for a moment, just so I can draw it's face?" Abigail asked.

"Yes," came Malfoy's voice from the group nearest them, "Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on substandard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrow moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straight away."

"OUCH!"

Harry dropped the bowtruckle as it swiped at his hand. He had gripped it so hard that it had almost snapped, leaving it to retaliate. There were two long cuts on Harry's hand, deep enough to begin bleeding. Abigail's lips pursed as the bowtruckle ran off into the forest, a little, moving stickman.

When the bell echoed across the grounds, Harry rolled up his picture and started across the grounds towards the Herbology greenhouses. The others followed, Abigail wrapping his hand with Hermione's handkerchief.

"If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time..." Harry growled

"Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget, he's a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you..."

"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" Harry said sarcastically. Ron laughed, but Hermione frowned, whereas Abigail cocked her eyebrow at him, giving him a smart-alec look.

As they reached the greenhouses, the nearest one's door opened and a bunch of fourth-years spilled out, including Ginny. She greeted them brightly and then moved on, followed seconds later by Luna Lovegood, trailing behind the rest. Upon seeing Harry, she made a beeline for him, with other classmates watching them. When she reached him, she took a deep breath, and then said, "I believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him."

"Er- right." Harry replied awkwardly. Luna was wearing what looked like radishes for earrings, and he was not the only one who seemed to notice, because Parvati and Lavender were giggling and pointing behind her.

"You can laugh!" Luna said loudly, thinking they were laughing at what she said rather than her choice of clothes. "But people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple- Horned Snorkack!"

"Well, they were right, weren't they?" Hermione said impatiently. "There weren't any such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple- Horned Snorkack."

Luna gave her an irritated look and flounced off, her earrings swingging madly. Parvati and Lavender were not the only ones laughing now.

"That was incredibly insensitive, Hermione." Abigail commented.

"D'you mind not offending the only people who believe me?" Harry asked Hermione as they entered the greenhouse.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry, you can do better than her," said Hermione. "Ginny's told me all about her, apparently she'll only believe in things as long as there's no proof at all. Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from someone whose father runs The Quibbler."

"I have an idea." Abigail said, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. "How about you quit acting like a prat and leave the poor girl alone?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open, as did the others'. Harry felt shocked at what Abigail had said, but was distracted by an approaching Ernie MacMillan.

"I want you to know, Potter, that it's not only weirdos who support you." Abigail glared at him from over Harry's shoulder. "I personally believe you one-hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I."

"Er- thanks very much, Ernie." Harry replied, suprised but pleased.

To nobody's suprise, Professor Sprout started by talking over O.W.L.s once more. Harry wished they would stop; it was created an anxious knot in his stomach, a feeling that dramatically worsened when she gave them another essay at the end of class. Tired and smelling of dragon dung, the class trooped back up to the castle quietly.

As Harry was starving and his detention was so early, he went straight to dinner without dropping off his bag in the Griffindor tower so he bolt down dinner before the torchure Umbridge had in store for him. The others joined him shortly and they began to eat.

Halfway through their meal, Angelina Johnson appeared, and she didn't looked happy. Harry was a little nervous at the expression on Angelina's face, and even the others gave him wary looks.

"Oy, Potter! How come you've landed yourself in detention for five o'clock on Friday?" She demanded.

"What? Why... oh yeah, Keeper tryouts!" He exclaimed.

"_Now_ he remembers!" She snarled. "Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've decided you're not going to be there!"

"I didn't decide not to be there!" Harry argued loudly. "I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her the truth about You-Know-Who-"

"Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off on Friday," Angelina interrupted, "and I don't care how you do it, tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of of your imagination if you like, just make sure you're there!"

Then she stormed away.

"You know what?" Harry said after a few seconds of silence. "I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because she seems to be channeling his spirit."

"Could Wood really have been that bad?" Abigail asked incrediously. The others turned to stare at her and, from their expressions, muttered a feeble. "Oh."

"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?" Ron asked skeptically.

"Less than zero." Harry said glumly. "Better try, though, hadn't I? I'll offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno..." He swallowed his juice before speaking again. "I hope she doesn't keep me too long this evening. You realize we've got to write three essays, practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a countercharm for Flitwick, finish the bowtruckle drawing, and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?"

Ron groaned, looking at the celing. "And it looks like it's going to rain."

"What's that got to do with our homework?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing." Ron replied at once.

"What's so bad about the rain?" Abigail asked. "I love the rain."

Being Quidditch obsessed, Harry and Ron looked at her like she was mad, but Hermione just shrugged and returned to her soup.

At five to five, Harry bade the others good-bye and started down the unhappy direction to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He knocked and again heard the annoyingly sweet voice say, "Come in."

"Good evening." She greeted as he stepped inside. He noted that, once again, the pointed black quill lay on the desk beside hers, with paper ready to be written on.

"Evening." He replied.

"Well, sit down." She instructed.

"Er, Professor Umbridge?" He started without moving. "Er- before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a... a favor."

"Her eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"Well I'm... I'm on the Griffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was- was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it- do it another night... instead..."

He already knew that it was no good.

"Oh no," said Umbridge smiling widely. "Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you.

Harry ignoring the pounding anger in his head and sat down, readying himself for the pain about to come.

* * *

His second detention was just as bad as the previous one. His hand was rubbed raw and the words were etched deeper into his skin, bleeding once more. He flinched as it stung him, hurting more deeply than before. Harry didn't know how much of this he could take. She reveled in his pain, delighted at the thought of spilt blood, and he knew it too.

But, Harry couldn't say that he wasn't pleasantly suprised to enter the common room that night, finding a certain girl with a rag and smile, friendly and comforting.

And, Harry thought, grinning as he sat down next to her, maybe some things are worthwhile anyway.

**Nice little chapter ending there, huh? Sweet in a way. Don't worry though; it's gotta go downhill sometime.**

**Next Update: 5/7/11**


	7. Chapter 7

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

7: Secrets Revealed

After Abigail went off to bed, Harry started on his homework, as the situation was now becoming desperate.

By two o'clock, he had finished Snape's moonstone essay, though he thought it was quite sloppy and unorganized. A little while later, he finished the questions McGonagall had given him and began Grubbly-Plank's. By three, he had finished the correct handling of a bowtruckle, and staggered upstairs, where he fell asleep fully clothed on top of his bed covers.

Wednsday passed in a haze of tiredness. Ron seemed very sleepy as well, though as to why Harry could not guess. Harry had noticed Ron acting strangely lately, but as to what, Harry was at a loss.

His head drooped at the breakfeast table, his chin nearing his plate every second. His lack of sleep had left him throughly annoyed, and he was only further angered by Abigail's insistent proddings to eat something. Eventually, it caused him to reply quite harshly, and afterwards followed her all the way to her Muggle Studies class, repeating an apology to her back until she gave in, rolled her eyes, smiled, and returned to herself as she entered the classroom.

It only became harder to stay up as they sat through Divination, what with the room's dark setting and the lulling smell of Trelawney's perfume. Harry was only kept awake by Ron, who, to Harry's shock, managed to stay up during the lesson.

However, he didn't have to worry about Transfiguration because McGonagall set them, once again, on Vanishing Spells. Harry had a harder time concentrating, even with the girls' help, and it obviously showed in his work by the look on McGonagall's face.

At lunch, he managed to eat, ignoring the smirk on Abigail's face as she ate her food. About ten minutes before next period, she jumped up, promised to meet up with them, and hurried away. On the way out of the castle, Abigail caught up with the three, tucking yet another new book into her bag. Harry rolled his eyes and then ducked as she aimed a playful slap at him.

Hagrid's cabin was still lifeless as they approached their class. Harry's worry was growing, and it didn't help when Malfoy came strutting down the lawn, acting as if he owned the world. Which, in retrospect, was always his attitude. Harry still thought Malfoy knew something, but had no time to dwell on it as Grubbly-Plank started the lesson.

After an injury-free lesson, the four-some hurried up to the astronomy tower, though they had yet to start their late night classes. As expected, Professor Sinistra lectured over O.W.L.s. Harry's earlier annoyance was returning as she went over the same concepts that the other professors had. Then she assigned them homework: a review over last year's subjects, which just made Harry feel quite stupid.

His third detention went just the same as the previous two, except now the words etched in his hand did not heal over, the skin remaining permenently engraved. Umbridge seemed satisfied with the work, but Harry knew that he still had detention for the week, no matter how much he bled.

The only nice thing was that every night, his new friend cleaned his hand as well as possible, but he could tell she still felt guilty. Every time he flinched, she'd apologize again and again, her green eyes holding back tears and her voice shaking slightly.

Thursday was basically the same. History of Magic was boring and dreary, Care of Magical Creatures was Hagrid-less, Potions was full of insults and snide remarks, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught through books, with no magic involved, as Umbridge watched them.

His detention was painful, but he never complained or showed signs of weakness. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of breaking him. He was strong and he would stay that way.

It was that night that, as he walked to the Common Room, he ran into Ron, hiding his new Cleansweep Eleven behind his back when he caught sight of Harry.

"What are you doing?"

"Er- nothing. What are _you_ doing?" Ron said in a nervoud voice.

Harry frowned. "Come on, you can tell me! What are you hiding here for?"

"I'm- I'm hiding from Fred and George, if you must know," Ron stuttered. He went on, talking in a fast, feverish way.

"But, what have you got your broom for, you haven't been flying, have you?" Harry asked.

"I- well- well, okay, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, all right?" Ronsaid defensively. "I- I thought I'd try out for Griffindor Keeper now I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."

"I'm not laughing." Harry insisted. "It's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"

"I'm not bad," Ron answered, looking relieved. "Charlie, Fred, and George always made me Keep for them when they were training during the holidays."

"So, all this time, you've been practicing?"

"Every evening since Tuesday... just on my own, though, I've been trying to bewitch Quaffles to fly at me, but it hasn't been easy and I don't know how much use it'll be." Ron looked nervous again. "Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven't stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect."

"I wish I could be there." Harry wished bitterly.

"Yeah, so do I." Ron replied truthfully.

The two entered the Common Room. After Ron returned his broom to their dorm, they went over to the couch by the fire. They found Hermione and Abigail, deep in conversation over a Muggle Studies lesson. Harry took Hermione's seat, Hermione took a chair, and Ron sat against the edge of the couch. The Common Room was quiet that night, with only a few people left.

"Did you two know Ron's trying for Keeper?" Harry asked the girls excitedly as Abigail washed his hand.

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding suprised. Ron's ears turned red.

"Yeah." He mumbled under his breath.

"Ron's, that's great!" Abigail exclaimed, grinning widely. "You'll do fantastic!" She reached over and ruffled his hair, making him blush a deeper red.

"Yes, well, just don't tell Fred and George." Ron said hastily. "They'll make fun."

"Come to think of it, where are those two?" Hermione asked suspisiously. "I haven't seen them in a while. Where would they have gone?"

Ron seemed speechless.

* * *

Only two things kept Harry going on Friday: one was that it was almost the weekend, and two was that, dreadful as his final detention would be, Umbridge's window was bound to have a distant view of the Quidditch pitch, and might, with luck, be able to watch some of Ron's tryout.

At five, he entered Umbridge's office, hopefully for the last time. The quill lay with a blank piece of parchment, ready for him.

"You know what to do, Mr. Potter." Umbridge said, sickeningly sweet.

Harry sat and picked up the quill. He shifted the chair slightly, without the teacher's notice, and managed a view of the field. He saw small, black figures darting around, but he couldn't tell who was who.

He began to write and the words in the back of his hand began to bleed again. Whenever he could risk it, he would sneak a glance out the window and watch the players. The first to try was quite terrible, indeed, as was the fourth. The third did well, and so did the fifth, but the latter missed an easy funble as well. It was beginning to get dark outside, so Harry doubted he would be able to see the six and seventh tryouters at all. The last time Harry had looked, night had fallen completely and he couldn't see anything.

"Let's see if you've gotten the message yet, shall we?" Umbridge said half and hour later.

She moved towards him and grabbed his arm, but when they made contact, pair seared across, not his hand, but the scar on his forehead. At the same time, he had a most peculiar sensation around his stomach.

He wrenched his arm away and stood, staring at her. She stared back, a smile crossing her face.

"Yes, it hurts, doesn't it?"

He didn't answer. Was she referring to his hand or what he had just felt in his scar?

"You may go, Mr. Potter."

He got his schoolbag and left as quickly as possible.

_Stay calm, stay calm_, he told himself as he raced to the common room. _It doesn't necessarily mean what you think it means..._

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_!" He gasped, and as the Fat Lady swung forward...

**YEAH, CLIFF HANGER! BTW, sorry about the late update! I had a lot going on and I couldn't finish. I'll try to do better. :D Well, R &R!**

**Next Update: 5/21/11**


	8. Chapter 8

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

8: Celebration and Confusion

_"Mimbulus mimbletonia!" He gasped, and as the Fat Lady swung forward..._

He jumped as a roar of noise reached his ears. Heart pounding, he stepped inside to the wildest party he'd ever seen. Ron came barreling towards him, beaming and slopping butterbeer down his front from the goblet he was holding.

"Harry, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!"

"What? Oh- brilliant!" Harry congradulated, forcing a smile and trying to ignore his throbbing hand.

"Have a butterbeer." Ron said, giving him a bottle. "I can't believe it- where's Hermione gone?"

"She's there." Fred said as he approached the boys. He pointed to an armchair by the fire where Hermione was dozing lightly.

"Yeah, and Abbie's over there as well." George popped up. "Blimey, that's quite a girl, ain't she, Fred?"

"Wicked." Fred grinned.

Harry felt his face grow hot and edged uncomfortable away from the red- headed brothers. He made his way through the crowd towards the fire and stopped short of sitting.

Abigail was asleep as well, though much deeper than Hermione. She took up the couch, her legs bent and her back curved slightly. Someone had covered her shoulders with a blanket because the tower was so cold. Harry hadn't seen it before, but now he saw the shadows that ran in a half- circle under her eyes. The color was so light, he realized, that no one would have seen it while she was awake.

He noticed the murtlap on the table, but decided to let her rest. He started to move past the couch towards Hermione, but accidentally hit his foot on the couch.

Hard.

He dropped his bag and resisted the urge to swear, but Abigail's eyes had already blinked open. She jerked up, looking around wildly before realizing who it was. She let out a deep breath and fixed him with an annoyed look. Then, she gaze darted to the murtlap and back, once more, and it turned to shock.

"Oh Merlin!" She hit her head with her hand. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I lay down to read and I just dropped off." Harry now noticed the discarded book, laying half open on the floor.

"It's 'K." He mumbled, rubbing his stubbed toe.

She moved the blanket and sat up, then shivered and re-wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Why is this tower so cold?" She mumbled. "What's with magic and heaters?"

"Never mind that." Harry said, sitting down. "I need to talk to you. _Both_ of you." He glanced over at Hermione.

"Right." Abigail set the murtlaped rag down and picked up a pillow, then proceeded to throw it right into Hermione's face.

Hermione jumped, somehow managing to keep her butterbear in her bottle. Her eyes narrowed and Harry could almost imagine steam coming out of her ears.

"What was that for?" Hermione asked outragously.

"Harry need to talk to us." Abigail replied.

"You could have just shaken me." Hermione complained.

"Oh, boo hoo." Abigail teased.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but Harry stopped her, raising the hand that wasn't being cared for.

"Shut up, both of you, and listen. I was just up in Umbridge's office and she touched my arm..."

Both of the girls listened intently to his story. When he had finished, Hermione spoke.

"You're worried that You-Know-Who's controlling her like he controlled Quirrell?" she asked slowly.

"Well," he dropped his voice,"it's a possibility, isn't it?"

"I suppose so." Hermione said warily. "But, I don't think he can be possessing her in the same way. I mean, he's properly alive now, isn't he? He's got his own body now, he wouldn't need anybody else's."

"What about the Imperius Curse?" Abigail asked, wrapping Harry's hand and turning to Hermione.

"Maybe..." Hermione said. Harry watched Fred, George, and Lee Jordan juggle bottles for a moment before Hermione pulled him back. "But last year your scar hurt when nobody was touching you, and didn't Dumbledore say it had something to do with what You-Know-Who was feeling at the time? I mean, maybe it hasn't got anything to do with Umbridge, and it was just a coincedence at the time?"

"She's evil." he said flatly. "Twisted."

He watched Hermione and Abigail switch looks. Abigail put her hand on his shoulder. "Harry... we know that you're strong and brave and everything... but, we all think... I mean..." she took a deep breath, "maybe it's time you tell Dumbledore what's happening. Umbridge, your scar, everything."

"I already told you, I'm not bothering him with this. It's not a big 's been hurting on and off all summer- it was just a bit worse tonight-"

"Harry, I think Dumbledore would _want_ to be bothered by this-" Harry cut Hermione off.

"Yeah," Harry said before he could stop himself, "that's the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn't it, my scar?"

"Don't say that!" Abigail argued, a bit pink in the face. "It isn't true and you should know that!"

"I'll tell Sirius then," Harry tried to compromise, but Abigail shook her head and Hermione looked alarmed.

"Harry, you can't put that in a letter!" Hermione said. "Hedwig could be intercepted, remember?"

"Fine, then, I won't tell him!" Harry said irritably. He got up. "I'm going to bed."

"Me, as well." Abigail said, getting up. Harry thought she had another motive, but then she picked up her stuff and walked to her dormitory stairs, disapearing in just a few seconds.

Harry and Hermione turned from the stairs to look at each other.

"How does she _move_ like that?" Hermione asked incrediously. "It's just so... swift, I guess."

"Yeah, weird." Harry commented.

Then he trapsied up his stairs, leaving Hermione behind.

His first thought the next morning was that it was Saturday, which meant the weekend, which equalled no homework and no teachers.

But, he did have something important to do.

The sky outside was still dark and Harry's watch said it was about dawn. He got up, dressed, grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, and went downstairs, sitting in his favorite armchair by the fire.

_Dear Padfoot, _

_I hope you're alright. It's starting to get colder here. Winter is definitely on the way. In spite of being back at Hogwarts, I feel more alone than ever. I know you, of all people, will understand._

_But, the reason I wrote, was because I was in detention with our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge, last night. The same thing happened last night that what happened last summer, the one I wrote to you about. It happened again in detention._

_We're all missing our biggest friend, and we hope he'll be back soon._

_Best,_

Harry

Harry read this over and over, from different perspectives, and thought, as an outsider, that no one would really understand what his letter meant or who he was talking to just from it. He hoped that Sirius would pick up the hint about Hagrid, and even more that he would know _where_ Hagrid was.

Even with how short the letter was, it had taken at least an hour to write. By the time he started for the Owlery, he could hear movement from the upstairs dormitories.

His spirits lifted on his way to the Owlery. The sky outside was a briliant blue and the weather was perfect for flying; he had training later, he'd be back on the field at last. He smiled at the thought.

When he reached the tower, it took a minute or two to find Hedwig. The walls stretched up taller than the rest of Hogwarts', making this the largest turret on the grounds.

"There you are," he said when he spotter her. "Here, I've got a letter for you."

She hooted and descended onto his shoulder.

"I know it says Padfoot," he explained while he gave her the note, "but it's for Sirius, okay?" She blinked once and he took it as a yes.

"Safe flight, then." Harry said and sent her off. He watched her until she was just a black dot in the sky and then turned and loped down the stairs.

The hallways were strangley empty, and Harry saw why as he passed another window. The sun shown so brightly that the weather was warmed considerably, so half the students were outside. The other half were in the Great Hall. He didn't see Ron, but noticed Hermione by the entry doors and approached her.

"Morning," he said lightheartedly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to breakfeast. Care to join me?" Hermione asked.

"Sure. Is Abbie still in the tower?"

"No, she wanted some air." Hermione nodded her head towards the grounds. After a moment, Harry located her, shadowed under a nearby tree.

"Is Ron up yet?" he asked.

"I didn't seen him." Hermione said.

"You go on, I'm going to go see Abbie."

Hermione nodded again and entered the Great Hall. Harry started across the grass, leaving Hermione behind.

As he got closer, he could make out more details of Abigail. Her eyes were closer and she was smiling. She looked almost like she was sleeping. She looked peaceful and casual.

Then he saw the scars.

**SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY !**

**I know I keep updating late and I'm so SORRY! :( I'm trying to do better, but schools almost out and I'm trying to enjoy it. I'm trying to do better, I promise!**

**Next Update: 6/4/11**


	9. Chapter 9

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

9: Scarful Stories

Harry's steps faltered to a stop when he saw them. He was only a few feet away from her, close enough to be just under the giant tree's shade.

Scars ran across her arms, up and down, side to side. They criss-crossed in uneven patterns, with no symmetry or detail to them. Some were long, stretching from her shoulder to her elbow or even her shoulder to her fingers, and some were small, like cuts you'd get after falling over. The skin around them was tinged slightly pink- the lightest stain of blood.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him.

"Join me?" she asked, patting the ground next to her.

He tore his eyes away from her arms and sat next to her. They sat in silence for a moment before, against his common sense, Harry blurted out the question.

"What are those scars?"

She stiffened and looked away. Her face was even, but her eyes were filled with un-shed tears.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be sorry." Abigail interrupted his apology. "It's just a... a touchy subject. I don't talk about it often."

"What d'you mean?" he asked.

She looked out across the grounds, avoiding his gaze. "They're... well... they're where I was attacked."

He sat silently as she thought. She didn't speak for a few more minutes.

"I've already told you that Bellatrix attacked my family: my dad, my mom, and then me. She just showed up one night. My dad tried to hold her off, but my dad-" she smiled, "-my dad was a wonderful person. He'd never use the Killing Curse, even if he was an inch from death. But she didn't hesitate. She toyed with him for a while, and then got bored and cursed him."

Abigail looked down. "My mom had hidden the two of us in a cupboard, but she still found us. My mom wasn't strong enough to fight back, and Bellatrix didn't particularly care for her anyway. So she killed my mom too."

She bit her lip. "Then Bellatrix came after me. She torchured me for a while. I was small. I remember screaming and crying." She rubbed her shoulders. Her voice was shaky. "The pain was unbearable. She cut me and used the Cruciatus Curse. She laughed at my screams."

Abigail's voice quieted. "Then she tried to kill me."

"Tried?" Harry asked.

She looked over at him. He almost shivered at the darkness her eyes held. "Tried."

She shook her head. "There's no explanation. My mother didn't beg like yours; she was dead before she could try. I don't have any scars from it, so it's not like you. The scars on my arms are from the torchure. The spell just... didn't work. Bellatrix used the spell and left, thinking she had killed me. But when the Order got there, I was still alive, but only just. Even Dumbledore can't explain it."

There was another moment of silence, disregarding the sound of their classmates before them.

"I... I'm sorry." Harry finally said.

She smiled, but she didn't look at him. "It wasn't your fault."

"But it's just so strange."

Now she was staring at him. "What d'you mean?"

"Just... just that something like this would happen to you. It doesn't seem likely."

"Why?" she asked increduously.

"Well," he started, "you just don't seem like the person that would happen to. I've only known you a week, but you seem... perfect." Harry admited. "I mean, you have great grades, you're good at all your classes, it's like you're... perfect." He repeated.

Her face was a mix of shock and questioning. "Do you really believe that I'm perfect?" Her voice was slightly aggitated. "Do you really think that I can't handle what happened?"

"I didn't say that!" Harry argued.

"It was implied." she hissed.

They continued to glare at each other before Abigail looked away again, at the ground once more. Her face softened and she looked like she would cry.

"It's not like it's just _there_," she stated, "no one's perfect. I just... I just do my best, and if my best looks perfect, then that's great."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well..." She looked uncomfortable. "I guess... it's for my parents, actually. And... and I know they died because they loved me and were protecting me, but I feel like, like when I do my best, that I'm repaying them in a small way. It'll never be enough, but it makes me feel... a bit better." She looked over at him. "Not like you. You get to repay everyone who's suffered under Voldemort, and just by living." She looked up at him with a soft expression. "You're really special."

Harry didn't know how to respond so they just sat quietly, though the silence felt awkward.

Abigail's face suddenly changed from awkward to worried. Her eyes shifted over his shoulder.

"Uh oh." she muttered. Harry looked over.

Ron walked by the castle doors. His face looked glum and his body was drooping. He shuffled his feet and slowly disapeared inside the Great Hall.

"He looked so sad. Did something happen last night?" Abigail questioned Harry.

"I dunno. Let's go see." Harry stood up, brushing the grass off his pants. He held out his hand and Abigail took it. She cleaned herself off and they walked back to the castle together and went into the Great Hall, sitting next to Ron and Hermione. Harry took the seat next to Hermione while Abigail sat across from them, next to Ron.

"Ron, are you alright?" Abigail asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I- I'm fine." But Ron's face was filled with anxiety and fear and Harry couldn't guess what it was.

"Hey, Harry," Ron asked, "listen... you don't fancy going out to practice Quidditch a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to- er- give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit..."

"Uh, sure, whatever you like." Harry complied.

"Look, I don't think you should." Hermione said. "You're both really behind on homework as it is-"

She broke off as a large owl landed in front of her, the _Daily Prophet _clutched in it's beak.

"Anything interesting?" Ron asked as Hermione buried her nose in the paper.

"Not really," she sighed. "Just something about the bass player in the Weird Sisters getting married..."

She read deeper into the paper as the other three continued to eat.

"Wait a moment," Hermione said suddenly, "Oh no... Sirius!"

"What's happened?" Harry asked quickly. He reached for the paper, but Abigail had already snatched it clean out of her hand. Her eyes rapidly scanned the text and she paled slightly.

"What is it? What is it?" Harry repeated impatiently.

_"The Minsitry of Magic has recieved a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer... blah blah blah.. is currently hiding in London!" _Abigail said in a squeaky whisper.

"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything." said Harry angrily. "He _did_ recognize Sirius on the platform..."

"What?" Ron asked alarmed. "You didn't say-"

"Shh!" Hermione hushed as she took the paper back and read again.

_"...'Ministry warns Wizarding community that Black is very dangerous... killed thirteen people... broke out of Azkaban...' _the usual rubbish." Hermione said throwing it aside. Her face crinkled worridly. "Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all," she whispered. "Dumbledore did warn him not to."

Before anyone could answer, loud talking filled their ears. Everyone's heads swiveled to look out into the staircase.

"Pardon me, Professor, but what _exactly_ are you insinuating?" Professor Umbridge's voice traveling.

"I am merely requesting that when it comes to my students, you conform to the prescribed discipline practices." Professor's McGonnagal answered.

All the students had filled slowly into the hallway and were now watching the rising battle between the two teachers.

"So silly of me, but it sounds as if you're questioning my authority in my own classroom, Minerva" Umbridge took a step up the stairs, making her look a bit taller.

"Not at all, Dolores." Professor McGonnagal said sternly, rising one step as well. "Merely you're mid-evil methods!"

"I... am sorry, dear," said Umbridge, looking astounded, "but to question my practices is to question the Ministry, and by extention, the Minister, himself." She sounded horrified. "I am a tolerant woman, but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty."

Professor McGonnagal stared at Umbridge, then took one step back down. "Disloyalty," she repeated with a smirk.

Umbridge set her jaw and took another step up. She turned to face the observing students. "Things at Hogwarts are_ far_ worse than I feared. Cornielius will want to take _immidiate_ action."

**WHY AM I SO FREAKING STUPID! I KEEP MISSING THE UPDATE DATES! AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGG! ME SO SORRY TO ALL READERS!**

**Next Update: 6/25/11 (I'll do my best.)**


	10. Chapter 10

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

10: Quidditch Practice

Harry and Ron walked down the sloping lawn towards the Quidditch pitch, their broomsticks over their shoulders. Harry gave an instinctive glance at the Forbidden Forest as they passed, but there was nothing to fear as the went safely by.

They borrowed playing balls from the changing room and got to work. Harry played Chaser while Ron tried to protect the three goalposts. Harry thought Ron was pretty good, blocking most of his attempts to get the ball by, and played better the longer they practiced. After a quick lunch, they returned to the field for the real training session. Everyone was in the changing rooms except Angelina when they entered.

"All right, Ron?" George asked with a wink.

"Yeah," Ron answered in a nervous voice.

"Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?" Fred mocked.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Okay everyone, let's get to it," Angelina's voice came. She stepped into the room, fully clothed in her new Captain's clothes. "Alicia and Fred, if you can bring the ball crate out for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching but I want you to just ignore them, all right?"

Harry knew who it was before they had even left the room. Sure enough, as they stepped outside, they were met by jeers and cat-calls from a great group of Slytherins sitting in the stands. They were led by none other than Draco Malfoy, who was sneering right in front.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

Ron kicked off the ground, ears red. Harry followed him into the air.

"Ignore them." Harry advised. "We'll see who's laughing after we play them..."

"Exactly the attitude I want, Harry," Angelina approved as she flew up to face the team. "Okay everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please-"

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?" Pansy Parkinson screamed from the stands. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

"Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do..." Angelina ordered, pushing her braids out of her face.

Harry reversed away from them to the far side of the pitch. Ron took the opposite goal. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred, who passed it to George, who passed it to Harry, who passed it to Ron, who dropped it.

The Sytherin crowd cheered loudly. Ron dove after the Quaffle and caught it before it hit the ground, but pulled out of the dive clumsily and returned to playing height, blushing. Harry saw Fred and George exchange looks, but was grateful that they held their tongues.

"Pass it on, Ron," Angelina called.

Ron threw the Quaffle to Alicia, who passed it back to Harry, who passed it to George...

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" Malfoy drawled loudly. "Sure you don't need a lie-down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"

Fred passed to Angelina; she reverse passes it to an unexpecting Harry, who caught it by his fingertips. He passed it quickly to Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches.

"Come on now, Ron." Angelina said crossly, "Pay attention."

On Ron's third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle. Perhaps out of relief, he passed it on so happily that it soared straight through Katie's hands and hit her hard in the face.

"Sorry!" Ron apoligized, zooming forward to see whether he had done any damage.

"Get back in position, she's fine!" Angelina barked. "But as you're passing to a teammate, do _try_ not to knock her off her broom, won't you? We've got Bludgers for that!"

As Ron went back, Fred flew over to Katie, whose nose was bleeding.

"Here, take this," he told her, handing her something small and purple from his pocket. "It'll clear it up in no time."

"All right," called Angelina."Fred, George, go get your bats and a Bludger; Ron, get up to the goalposts; Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. We're going to aim for Ron's goal, obviously."

Harry rushed off after the twins to fetch the Snitch.

"Ron's making a right pig's ear of things, isn't he?" George muttered as the three of them collected the balls and bats.

"He's just nervous. He was fine when we practiced this morning." Harry commented.

"Yeah, well, I hope he hasn't peaked too soon," said Fred gloomily.

They returned to the pitch and into the air. When Angelina blew her whistle, Harry released the Snitch and Fred and George let go of the Bludger. From then on, Harry payed little attention to what the others were doing. It was his job to capture the Snitch, and that required a high level of speed, skill, and focus. He rolled and swerved, around and between the Chasers, warm air whipping his face and Slytherin's calls becoming a meaningless roar in his ears.

But, too soon, the whistle brought him to a halt again.

"Stop- _stop_- STOP!" Angelina screamed. "Ron- you're not covering your middle post!"

Harry looked over at Ron, who was covering the left-hand hoop, leaving the other two unprotected.

"Oh...sorry..."

"You keep shifting around whilte you're watching the Chasers!" said Angelina. "Either stay in center position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops, but don't drift vaugely off to one side, that's how you let in the last three goals!"

"Sorry..." Ron replied, red face shining.

"And Katie, can't you do something about that nosebleed?"

"It's just getting worse!" Katie said thickly, trying to stem the flow with her sleeve.

Harry looked over at Fred, who was anxiously checking his pockets. He saw Fred pull out something purple, examine it, then look around at Katie, horrorstruck.

"Well, let's try again," said Angelina. She ignored the Slytherins, who had now started up a chant of "_Griffindors are losers, Griffindors are losers_," but she still sat rigidly on her broomstick.

This time they barely flew three minutes before the whistle sounded again. Harry, who had just sightefd the Snitch, pulled up agitatedly.

"What now?" he asked Alicia impatiently.

"Katie." she pointed out.

Harry turned and saw Fred, George, and Angelina racing towards Katie as fast as they could. Harry and Alicia joined them. It was plain that Angelina had stopped practice just in time; Katie was chalk-white and covered in blood.

"She needs the Hospital Wing," said Angelina.

"We'll take her," Fred said. "She- er- might have swallowed a Blood Blisterpod by mistake-"

"Well, there's no point continuing with no Beaters and a Chaser gone," said Angelina glumly, watching the twins zoom off towards the castle with Katie between them. "Come on, let's go and get changed."

The Slytherin's continued to chant as they trailed back into the changing rooms. Harry watched Ron warily, who didn't speak at all. As they headed out of the changing rooms, they saw Abigail and Hermione by the stands and walked over to them.

"How was practice?" Hermione asked.

"It was-"

"Completely lousy." Ron interrupted Harry.

"Well, it was only your first one," she consoled. "It's bound to take time to-"

"Who said it was me who made it lousy?" Ron snapped.

"No one," said Hermione, looking taken aback," I thought-"

"You thought I was bound to be rubbish?"

"No, of course I didn't! Look, you said it was lousy so I just-"

"I'm going to get started on some homework," Ron grumbled angrily and stomped off towards the castle. Hermione, looking offened, followed him. Abigail and Harry huing back, watching the two stalk off.

Abigail turned to Harry. "_Was_ he lousy?"

"No," said Harry loyally.

Abigail raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I suppose he could have played better," Harry muttered, "but it was only the first training session, like Hermione said."

Abigail nodded, tucking her thick hair behind one ear. "He probably did better than I would've. I'm absolutley horrid at Quidditch. More like _flying_, at actually."

"Why?" Harry questioned.

"I'm just a bad flier. I'm scared of heights. And falling. And hitting the ground." Abigail confessed.

"It's not that bad," Harry smirked. He gestured to the pitch. "Come on."

"What are we doing?" Abigail followed him, confused.

"You'll see." Harry grinned.

The Slytherin's were all gone by the time they reached the broom shed. Harry entered the small shed and grabbed his Firebolt. Outside he mounted it, looking at her expectantly.

"So?" he asked.

"So what?"

"Aren't you coming?" he patted the wood behind him.

"Harry, do you listen to me _at all_?" said Abigail. "I don't like flying!" Harry heard the panic rising in her voice.

"Don't worry," he soothed. "It'll be okay."

She considered, watching him like he was insane, and then let out a shaky breath.

"Oh, oh all ri-right." she stuttered.

She dropped her stuff onto the grass. Slowly, she got on behind Harry, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. He smiled and rose gently into the air. He felt her grip tighten as they reached goal level.

"Uh, Harry, maybe this wasn't such a good idea." she said as they froze in mid-air.

"Relax." Harry said. He tipped the Firebolt down slightly. "And hold on."

The Firebolt plumetted downwards. Abigail screamed loudly in his ears and he whooped happily. He pulled up about ten feet from the ground and soared back upward. He felt Abigail bury her head into his back.

"Harry! Harry, please, please, _please_, can we go back down?" she said quickly. Her voice was loud and shaky and her breathing was wheezy. "I don't like this!"

"Okay, okay," Harry complied. He descended slowly, touching the ground with barely a bump.

He gave her a minute to calm herself. Slowly, she unhooked her arms from around his chest and pulled her head away. She pulled her leg over the broom and slid off. Her knees trembled and she fell onto them in the cool grass.

Harry almost thought this was silly, and most likely would have laughed if not in the next second Abigail had bent over and started to retch. So Harry did the only thing he could do.

He held back her hair whie she continued to lose her lunch.

**:( WHY THE FREAKING HECK CAN'T I REACH A DEADLINE, HUH? **

**Next Update: 7/23/11 (Chill, I'm trying!)**


	11. Chapter 11

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

11: Percy's Letter

"And that," Abigail heaved, "is why I don't fly." She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, cleaning it off. She took a deep breath and shivered.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. She waved her hand in an unconcerned matter and her let go of her hair.

"I'll be back," said Harry, "I just need to put my broom up."

"Hurry up," said Abigail.

Harry quickly ran over to the broom shed. He placed the Firebolt inside, locked the door, and then hurried back over to his friend. She was still on the ground, looking sick. Harry picked up her books and threw her bag over his shoulder. He then extended his free hand to her. She took it and stood, but stumbled over and had to use Harry as support.

"Here," he huffed, giving her her bag. She hooked it over her shoulder. Then Harry put his arm around her and under her arm, holding her up. They walked back towards the castle, Harry tripping with the unsteady weight of the shaken girl on his side. It seemed to take forever to lug the girl up to Griffindor Tower, but they did it eventually.

_"Mimbulus mimbletonia!" _Harry gasped out. The Fat Lady swung open, giving Abigail a sympathetic look.

"Oh my god!"

Hermione appeared in Harry's vision, followed by Ron. Hermione ran over and helped Harry get Abigail over the threshold and into the Common Room. Harry sighed in relief and stretched his tired arm. Ron took Abigail's other arm and they both led her to the couch. Hermione sat down with with Abigail. Abigail groaned, shut her eyes tighly, and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked worredly.

"Yeah," Ron added, "I mean, she looks like she's going to pass out."

Harry sat in the armchair by the fire and ran his hand through his hair exhaustedly. "One word-," said Harry, holding up a finger, "_flying_."

The visible skin of Abigail's face paled and she groaned again. "Only because Harry is completely and utterly _mad_."

"What?" Harry questioned increduously.

She looked up at him, her face looking green. She mocked his words. ""It's not that bad, it'll be okay, hold on?"" Her voice raised an octave on the last two words. "How was plummeting towards the ground at whatever crazy speed you were going supposed to make me feel better?"

"But you said you _liked _Quidditch!"

"I do! What I don't like is flying on a broomstick behind a Seeker on a speed high!"

"Stop, stop!" Hermione said before Harry could retort. Abigail laid her head back on Hermione's shoulder and Harry slumped back in his chair irritatedly. Ron looked between all of them from his place on the floor, but said nothing.

"Sorry," Abigail mumbled quietly. Her head turned slightly to look at Harry and one green eye poked out.

He nodded his acceptance and she sighed, closing her eyes again.

Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headway with their homework that night. Harry knew Ron was too preoccupied with how badly he had performed at Quidditch practice and he himself was having difficulty in getting the chant of _"Griffindors are losers" _out of his head, while at the same time helping Hermione urge Abigail into seeing Madam Pomfrey, which she bluntly refused every time.

They spent the whole of Sunday in the Common Room, buried in their books while the room around them filled up and then emptied. It was another clear, fine day and most of their fellow Griffindors spent the day out in the grounds, enjoying what might well be some of the last sunshine that year. He was relieved, however, to see that Abigail was feeling and looking better, and thanked her many times when she brought them meals up from the Great Hall. By the evening Harry felt as though somebody had been beating his brain against the inside of his skull.

"You know, we probably should try and get more homework done during the week," Harry muttered to Ron as they finally laid aside Professor McGonnagal's long essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus spell and turned miserably to Professor's Sinistra's equally long and difficult essay about Jupiter's moons.

"Yeah," said Ron, rubbing his bloodshot eyes and throwing his fifth spoiled bit of parchment into the fire beside them. "Listen... shall we just ask Hermione if we can have a look at what she's done?"

Harry glanced over at her; she was sitting with Crookshanks on her lap and chatting merrily to Ginny and Abigail.

"No," he said heavily, "you know she won't let us."

And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the Common Room began to thin again. At half-past eleven, Hermione and Abigail wandered over to them as Ginny's figure disapeared up the dormitory stairs.

Hermione yawned. "Nearly done?"

"No," said Ron shortly.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," she said, pointing over Ron's shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay.

"And it's Io that's got the volcanos." Abigail put in.

"Thanks," snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, "we only-"

"Yeah, well, if you've just come over to criticize-"

"Ron-"

"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione. I'm up to my neck in it here-"

"No- look!"

Hermione was pointed to the nearest window. Harry, Ron, and Abigail looked over. A handsome screech owl was standing on the windowsill, gazing into the room at Ron.

"Isn't that Hermes?" said Hermione, sounding amazed.

"Blimey, it is!" said Ron quietly. He threw down his quill and got to his feet. "What's Percy writing to me for?"

He crossed to the window and opened it; Hermes flew inside, landed upon Ron's essay, and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. Ron took it off and the owl departed at once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing of the moon Io.

"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron, sinking back into his chair and staring at the words on the outside of the scroll: _To Ronald Weasley, Griffindor House, Hogwarts_. He looked up at the other three. "What d'you reckon?"

"Open it!" said the girl's eagerly. Harry nodded.

Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. The farther down the parchment his eyes traveled, the more pronounced became his scowl. When he had finished reading, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at Harry, Hermione, and Abigail, who leaned together to read it:

_Dear Ron, _

_I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minsiter of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect. _

_I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George__" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility. _

_But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away form prying eyes and avoid awkward questions. _

_From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternisation with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this - no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favourite - but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different - and probably more accurate - view of Potter's behaviour. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the _Daily Prophet _tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing - and see if you can spot yours truly! _

_Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to you future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt. _

_It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter - I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know violent - but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behaviour that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you. _

_This leaves me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week - again, see the _Prophet _tomorrow!). I shall say only this - a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years! _

_I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticise our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people - the Minister really could not be more gracious to me - and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes. _

_Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect. _

_Your brother, _

Percy

Harry looked up at Ron.

"Well," he said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, "if you want to-er- what is it?" (He checked Percy's letter.) "Oh yeah- 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."

"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. "He is-" Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's"- he tore it into quarters- "biggest"- he tore it into eighths- "_git_." He threw the pieces into the fire.

"Come on, we've got to get this finished sometime before dawn," he said briskly to Harry, pulling the essay back toward him.

Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face.

"Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.

"What?" said Ron.

"Give them to me. I'll look through them and correct them," she said.

"I'll help," said Abigail, grabbing Harry's essay.

"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, Abbie, you're a lifesaver," said Ron, "what can I-"

"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,'" Abigail said, looking amused.

"Thanks a million, guys," said Harry weakly, sinking back into his chair, rubbing his eyes.

It was now past midnight and the Common Room was deserted but for the four of them and Crookshanks. The only sound was that of quills scratching out sentences here and there on their essays, the ruffle of pages as the girls checked various facts in the reference books strewn across the table, and here and there, Abigail and Hermione's muttering over a specific topic. Harry felt exhausted. He also felt an odd, sick, empty feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with tiredness, and everything to do with the letter now curling blackly in the heart of the fire.

He knew that half the people inside Hogwarts thought him strange, even mad; he knew that the _Daily Prophet _had been making snide allusions to him for months, but there was something about seeing it written down like that in Percy's writing, about knowing that Percy was advising Ron to drop him and even to tell tales on him to Umbridge, that made his situation real to him as nothing else had. He had known Percy for four years, had stayed in his house during the summers, shared a tent with him during the Quidditch World Cup, had even been awarded full marks by him in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament last year, yet now, Percy thought him unbalanced and possibly violent.

And with a surge of sympathy for his godfather, Harry thought that Sirius was probably the only person he knew who could really understand how he felt at the moment, because Sirius was in the same situation; nearly everyone in the Wizarding world thought Sirius a dangerous murderer and a great Voldemort supporter and he had had to live with that knowledge for fourteen years...

"Okay, write that down," Hermione said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to Ron, "and then copy out this conclusion I've written for you."

"Hermione, you are amazing," said Ron weakly.

"Harry," Abigail said, "yours is okay except for this bit at the end. I think you may have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europa's covered in_ ice_, not mice."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, taking back his paper.

Abigail stood up and yawned, stretching. "I'm going to bed," she said heavily. "Goodnight," she gave them as she walked up the dormitory stairs. Hermione followed shortly after.

For a few more minutes, Harry and Ron were silent as they fixed and finished their essays. Then they trampled upstairs, groaning and grumbling for the umcoming day.

But it was worse than they thought.

**YESYESYESYESYESYESYES! HAHAHAHAHAHHHA! I MADE THE DEADLINE, I MADE THE DEADLINE, UH HUH, UH HUH, UH HUH UH HUH UH HUH! YIPEEEEEEE!**

**Next Update: 7/30/11**


	12. Chapter 12

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

12) The Hogwarts High Inquisitor

The first thing that Harry, Hermione, Abigail, and Ron noticed that morning was the large plaque nailed to the wall outside of the Great Hall:

**PROCLAMATION**

EDUCATIONAL DECREE NO. 23

DOLORES JANE UMBRIDGE

HAS BEEN

APPOINTED TO

THE POST OF

HOGWARTS

HIGH

INQUISITOR

**M**

"Hogwarts High Inquisitor?" Ron read. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Abigail answered grimly, that our lives just got a whole lot harder."

Abigail's prediction was right. As the four went through their daily classes, Umbridge would show up, holding a clipboard and a smile. The first class she showed up was in their Divination class.

"Just one question, dear," Umbridge interrupted Professor Trelawney's lesson, "you've been in this post _how_ long, exactly?"

"Nearly sixteen years," Trelawney answered, looked a little offended and a little worried.

"Quite a period," said Umbridge, making a note on her clipboard. "So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?"

"Yes, that's right."

Umbridge made another note.

"And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?"

"Yes," said Trelawney a little braver.

Another note on the clipboard.

"But I think- correct me if I am mistaken- that you are the first in your family since Cassandra to be possessed of second sight?"

"These things often skip-er-three generations," said Trelawney.

Umbridge's smile widened.

"Could you please predict something for me?" she asked.

Trelawney's mouth dropped. "I'm sorry?" she questioned incrediously.

"I'd like you to make a prediction for me," Umbridge repeated.

"But-but, you see, the Inner Eye does not just- just see upon command!"

"One teensy little prophecy?" Umbridge asked in a fake cutsy voice.

Trelawney just stared at Umbridge as the students watched. Umbridge pursed her lips and made another note.

"Pity," she said before turning to walk away.

"No! Wait! Wait!" Trelawney called her back, panic in her voice. "I- I think I do see something, yes! I do, something dark!"

Umbridge turned back around to face her.

"You are in grave danger!" Trelawney said in a mystifying voice.

Umbridge's smile got bigger. "Lovely," she replied and wrote again on her clipboard. Then she turned and promptly left the room, leaving a frozen Trelawney and her class.

A few days later, Umbridge showed up again, but this time she was in their Potions class. During this inspection, she started to question Snape right from the beginning.

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, is that correct?" she asked.

Snape stood as stiff as a board as she walked around him. "Yes."

She came up by his side with a fake pout. "But you were unsuccessful?"

"Obviously." Snape answered. Ron snickered into his cauldron.

After a few more questions, Umbridge left. As soon as she was out of sight, Snape moved, hitting Ron over the head with his notebook.

Umbridge didn't only inspect classes, but she walked around through the hallways, examining the students behavior. Using magic, she straightened uniforms, pushed people apart, and even stopped the Weasley twin's entainments.

Day by day, the walls outside the Great Hall gained more and more decrees. The walls were becoming full and Filch, who was putting them up, now had to use a ladder to place them higher, even over the doorway.

Harry managed to stay out of detention, but Umbridge was starting to get on his nerves. Everywhere he went, she seemed to follow. His only sanctuary was the Griffindor Common Room.

It was from there he was coming when he saw them. Great crowds of students, filling into the hallways outside the back door of the castle.

"Cho! What-what's going on?" he asked as the Ravenclaw passed. He fell into step with her as she made her way down the hallway.

"It's Professor Trelawney." said Cho shortly. The two sped up.

When they reached one of the windows that let out to the back of the castle, the whole school must have been there. They were all watching Trelawney, who was standing there, shivering and uncertain, as Filch carried her bags out of the castle. Students parted as Umbridge came through the back door, prompt and smiling.

Harry found his way over to Hermione, Abigail, and Ron, who had a better view of the scene unfolding.

"Ow, ow." Trelawney said as she hit her trunk, trying to walk forward. She was nearly crying and trembling like a mouse as Umbridge approached. She stepped around it and Umbridge stopped, only a few feet apart from each other.

"You-you can't. I have lived and taught here at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is my home. You-you can't do this!" she almost begged.

Abigail tried to step forward, but Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from going anywhere near the teachers. Her face was sad as she watched Trelawney's scared one.

Umbridge held up a sheet of official looking parchment. "Actually, I can."

Now Trelawney was really crying. Harry looked over as Professor McGonnagal appeared. She hurried by Harry and made her way over to Professor Trelawney. She hugged Professor Trelawney as she started to sob.

"Something you'd like to say, dear?" Umbridge asked.

"Oh, there are several things I would like to say!" Professor McGonnagal answered immediately. "There, shush." she said comfortingly to Professor Trelawney.

Everyone's attention flew to the doors as they opened again. Professor Dumbledore strode swiftly out.

"Professor McGonnagal, might I ask you to escort Sybil back inside?" he asked.

Professor McGonnagal had a small smile on her face as she helped Professor Trelawney towards the castle.

"Thank you, thank you!" Trelawney said to Dumbledore as they passed, grabbed his hand, before Professor McGonnagal led them away.

"Dumbledore," said Umbridge, recieving his full attention, "may I remind you that under the terms of educational decree number twenty-three, as enacted by the Minister,-"

"-you have the right to dismiss my teachers." Dumbledore finished. "You do not, however, have the authority to banish them from the grounds. That power remains with the headmaster."

Umbridge looked slightly unerved, but then smiled again. "For now," she warned.

Dumbledore stared at her a moment longer, then turned and made his way back to the doors. "Don't you all have studying to do?" he dismissed.

"Professor!" Harry called. He ran over to the back door, trying to follow Dumbledore, but there were clumped students there too. "Professor!" he yelled, but Dumbledore did not turn to answer him. "Professor Dumbledore!" The headmaster kept going, not stopped to listen to Harry. "Professor! Professor Dumbledore!" Harry started to lose sight of Dumbledore as students began to file in. He finally made his way into the main hallway, but stopped in shock. Dumbledore had vanished. He wasn't on the stairs that students now occupied.

Harry just stood and stared as the hall cleared around him, leaving him, once more, alone.

A few hours later, Harry, Hermione, Abigail, and Ron were in the Common Room. Ron was situated on the couch while Harry and Abigail sat in chairs by the radio on a nearby table. Hermione, however, did neither.

"That foul, evil old gargoyle!" said Hermione, pacing back and forth in front of the fire. "We're not learning how to defend ourselves, we're not learning how to pass our O.W.L.s... she's taking over the entire school!"

Silence passed before Fudge's voice popped out of the radio.

"...security has been and will remain the Ministry's top priority." Harry reached back and turned up the volume. "Furthurmore, we have convincing evidence that these disapearances are the work of notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black."

As if on cue, Harry heard Sirius's voice: "Harry!"

They all turned to look at the fire, where Sirius's head was now.

"Sirius!" Harry jumped up and ran over to the fire, followed by Abigail and Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

"Answering your letter. You said you were worried about Umbridge. What's she doing, training you to kill half-breeds?"

"Sirius, she's not letting us use magic at all." Abigail put in.

"Well, I'm not suprised," Sirius turned a fond face on his niece. "The latest intelligence is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"Combat?" Ron asked incrediously. "What does he think, we're forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks: that Dumbledore is assembling his own forces to take on the Ministry. He's becoming more paranoid by the minute." A crease appeared in Sirius's brow. "The others... wouldn't want me telling you this, Harry, but things aren't going at all well with the Order. Fudge is blocking the truth at every turn and these... _disapearances_ are just how it started before." His face became deadly serious. "Voldemort is on the move."

"Well, what can we do?" Harry asked, just as the sound of a door opening echoed above them.

"Someone's coming!" said Sirius hurredly. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but for now, at least, it looks like you're on your own. Stay safe, Harry, and the rest of you as well." He said, looking into Abigail's jade eyes. Then he was gone, leaving them to stare at empty flames.

They all stood up, stretching their stiff legs. Hermione walked over to the nearest window, staring out at the newly falling rain. The rest followed. Lightning flashed.

"He really is out there, isn't he?" she asked. She sighed and shook her head. "We've got to be able to defend ourselves, and if Umbridge refuses to teach us how, we need someone who will."

He turned her head again as lighting struck, giving her face an eerie look. She stared deep into Harry's eyes, who did nothing but stare back as the rain continued to pour on their spirits.

**DONUT SQUIRREL WANTS YOU TO REVIEW!**

**Next Update: 8/6/11**


	13. Chapter 13

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

13) In The Hog's Head

"This is mad!" Harry exclaimed. "Who'd want to be taught by me? I'm a nutter, remember?"

Hogwarts had finally made it to the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. At this particular moment, the four friends were walking down the Hogsmeade sidewalk, heading towards the Hog's Head bar. And why, you might ask?

Because Hermione was simply brilliant. She, Abigail, and Ron were all fully convinced that this idea was a good one.

Harry, on the other hand, had his doubts. Still, he couldn't say he wasn't shocked, suprised, and almost pleased that people would actually be showing up for this.

"Look on the brightside," said Ron, "can't be any worse than old toad-face."

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry sarcastically. The girls smirked.

"I'm here for you, mate," answered Ron. Abigail bit down on her gloved fist, but it didn't stop the giggle that escaped her.

"Who's supposed to be meeting us, then?" asked Harry.

"Just a couple people," said Hermione evasively.

They all stepped up to the building. Ron pushed the wooden door open. They all stood in disgust at the sight. The main room was dirty, smelly, and very small. It was also empty. The windows were grimy: Harry couldn't see in or out of them. The bartender looked up at them. He was old and gruesome-looking.

"Lovely spot." Ron commented.

The bartender turned his attention away from the teenagers as a goat ran out from behind his desk. He looked at all of them once more before following the animal out of the room.

"I thought it'd be safe somewhere off the beaten track," said Hermione. **(Is that what she said? I don't get it.)**

"Hermione, you are exceptionally brilliant," Abigail started, "but this is, well... unhygenic," she commented nicely. She looked over the bar again, her face twisted in disgust.

The four teenagers stepped in carefully. The door creaked shut behind them, making the room darker. Abigail tucked her hat-covered hair behind her ear nervously. They walked slowly across the room and went around the corner. Hermione went first, reading the room numbers. She stopped at a door labeled "Room 13".

"This is it," Hermione confirmed.

"How.. lucky," Abigail said sarcastically.

Hermione pushed open the door and Harry's jaw dropped. Twenty-five heads spun around to look at the newcomers.

"A couple of people?" Harry said horsely. "_A couple of people?_"

"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," Hermione defended happily.

The four stepped in silently, shutting and locking the door behind them. They went to the front of the room and sat down by the unlit fireplace. Harry finally got a good look at his audience.

In all, there was Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Parvati and Padma Patil, Cho Chang and her friend Marietta Edgecomb, Luna Lovegood, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevy, Ernie MacMillan, Justin Flinch-Fletchly, Hannah Abbot, Anthony Goldstein, Micheal Corner, Terry Boot, Ginny Weasley, Zacharias Smith, Fred and George Weasley, Lee Jordan, Nigel Wespurt, and Susan Bones.

Harry sat down on a stood by the fireplace with Ron next to him. Hermione sat on the opposite side with Abigail next to her. Abigail, whose was closer to Harry, patted his hand in reassurance.

Hermione took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and stood. All eyes flashed to her.

"Um... hi." Hermione said brightly. "So, you all know why we're here: we need a teacher. A _proper_ teacher," she corrected herself. "One whose had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

"Why?" asked Zacharias Smith snidely from the front row.

"Why? Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspop." Ron answered angrily.

"So he says," said Zacharias.

"So Dumbledore says," Hermione retorted.

"So Dumbledore says because he says," Zacharias replied. "The point is where's the proof?"

Harry watched the boy warily, then looked away with no answer.

"If Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed," Micheal Corner asked. Everyone looked at Harry almost eagerly.

Harry stood after another second of silence. Abigail's hand dropped. "I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here you might as well clear out now." He leaned over to Hermione. "Come on, Hermione, let's go, they're just here because they think I'm some sort of freak."

"Harry, wait-" Hermione caught his arm.

"Is it true you can produce a Patronus Charm?" Luna asked suddenly. Harry froze, staring at her.

"Yes," Hermione answered excitedly. "I've seen it."

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could do that!" Dean said amazed.

"And- and he killed the Baskilisk! With the sword in Dumbledore's office!" said Neville.

"It's true!" Ginny confirmed.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred dementors at once." Ron said. The students stared at Harry, but in awe instead of disgust.

"And last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh," said Hermione.

"Wait." Harry interjected. He shifted uncomfortably. "Look, it all sounds... great when you say it like that, but the truth is most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I nearly always had help..."

"He's just being modest-," said Hermione

"No, Hermione, I'm not." Harry said. He looked at the now serious crowd. "Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake, you can just try again tomorrow. But out there, when you're a second away from being murdered or watching a friend dieright before your eyes... you don't know what that's like." Harry shifted again before sitting back down. Abigail watched him sadly. Sniffles ran through the solemn-looking students.

"You're right, Harry, we don't," Hermione sat down as well. "That's why we need your help. Because if we're going to have any chance of beating... Voldemort..."

The room was silent again for another couple of minutes before Abigail stood up shakily. Everyone looked up at her. Silently, she unzipped her heavy coat and shook it off. Then she rolled her sweater sleeves up, followed by her long shirt sleeves. She held out her arms to the audience. The low light danced off the dark scars on her skin.

"Some of us do know," she said. "This is a reminder: the reminder that this is what Voldemort does." Her voice cracked. "His greatest power is this: the power to tear us apart." Her arms fell to her sides. "He uses torment and darkness to hurt and isolate us. He is pure evil." Her voice got stronger. "And evil like that leaves scars, physical or not. Seeing is believing. And do you know what I see?" she asked retorically. She pointed back at Harry. "I see a boy with a scar on his face and a story to share. I see a fighter, I see a survivor. And..." she looked back at him, "and I see the most caring person I've ever met. He's fighting for everyone... but that doesn't mean we can't fight too."

No one spoke after her speech, stunned into silence. She rubbed her eyes, looking down at the floor. She pulled her sleeves down and sat down, pulling her coat back on. Hermione wrapped an arm around her friend.

"He's really back?" Colin Creevy broke the silence. Harry looked up and nodded.

Five minutes later, Harry, Hermione, Abigail, and Ron sat behind a small desk. On it lay a sheet of paper. They all exchanged grins as the line formed, with each and every person in line to sign their name on this parchment.

A parchment so ironically labeled "_Dumbledore's Army_".

"Right, first we need to find a place to practice where Umbridge won't find out." said Harry.

It had been nearly an hour since the meeting had broken up. Now, Harry, Hermione, Abigail, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Fred, and George were walking back to the castle, across the wooden bridge connecting the great castle to Hogsmeade.

"The Shrieking Shack?" Ginny suggested.

"That's too small." Harry declined.

"The Forbidden Forest?" Hermione suggested.

"Not bloody likely." Ron said immideatley.

"Harry," said Ginny, "what happens if Umbridge does find out?"

"Who cares?" Hermione answered. A rebelic gleam came to her eye. "I mean, it's sort of exciting, isn't it? Breaking the rules." She grinned widely while everyone stared and smiled at her.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Abigail grinned. She bumped Hermione lightly.

"Anyway," said Hermione, "at least we know one positive thing that came from today."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Cho couldn't take her eyes off you, could she?" Hermione said. She sped up a bit, smiling wide. Harry's smile grew again.

"Right, over the next few days, we should each come up with a couple of possibilities of places we can practice." Harry assigned as they reached the castle doors. "But we've got to make sure wherever it is, there's no chance Umbridge will find us."

They walked into Hogwarts excitedly, unaware of the toad-faced woman watching from high above them. Filch appeared beside Umbridge with a questioning look. Slowly, Umbridge leaned over, whispering vital instructions to him. He nodded quietly and left her alone to think.

It was on Monday morning, as the four was walking to breakfeast, that they saw the next noticed, pinned biig and flashy next to the Great Hall doors.

"Perfect." Abigail grunted sarcastically.

**PROCLAMATION**

**EDUCATIONAL DECREE NO. 68**

**ALL STUDENT ORGANIZATIONS**

**ARE HENCEFORTH **

**DISBANDED**

**ANY STUDENT IN**

**noncompliance**

**WILL BE**

**EXPELLED**

**M**

"This can't be a coincidence," said Hermione quietly. "But no one could have told her! The list was enchanted so that no one could blab about it!"

"Thats not a bit... worrying," said a scared-looking Ron.

"What do we do now?" Abigail asked. They all looked over at Harry.

Harry took his eyes off the board and faced them. "We're still going to do this. And no toad-faced old witch is going to stop us."

"But how?" Hermione asked. "I mean, everyone in the D.A. will know about this and that will cause commotion. Not to mention that we still don't have a place to practice."

"Well, we'll just have to-"

"Harry! Harry!" came a voice. All four heads whipped around to see Neville Longbottom, racing at full speed down the staircase towards them. When he reached them, he bent over, trying to catch his breath.

"What is it, Neville? Is everything all right?" Abigail asked worredly.

"All right? _All right_?" Neville looked up with a shocking grin on his face. "This is so much better than all right!"

"Why? What happened Neville?" Harry asked.

"Well, you said we needed a meeting place," said Neville in a low voice.

"Yeah..." Harry asked.

"Well," Neville's whispery voice quivered with excitment, "I think I've found it!"

**YESYESYESYES HAHAHAHAHAHAHA IN YOUR FACE UMBRIDGE! SUKAR! THE DONUT REBELLION IS ONNNNNNNNNNNNNN!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I NEED IT TO SURVIVE! Not really, but seriously, review.**

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**Next Update: 7/13/11**


	14. Chapter 14

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

14) Dumbledore's Army and Under the Mistletoe

That night, before curfew, Neville led Harry, Hermione, Abigail, Ron, Fred, and George to the fifth floor. He stopped them in front of a blank wall.

"Okay, now what?" asked Harry.

"I'm not completely sure how it works. I was thinking about places we could practice and when I came by it, it opened up. Like this," said Neville quickly. He stepped up and walked across the door, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Almost immediatley, the wall started to shift. The shadow of an archway started to show. Inside the arch line, intricate designs started to fill up the space. The shape turned a dark grey and the accents turned a deep black. When it finished, the doors opened, welcomed them inside, and then shut again.

The room was big and round. The walls were made of a dark blue stone, lit by torches, with no other doors or windows. A large mirror had been placed in the corner, which Harry was sure was Mad-Eye's Foe-Glass from the previous year, and a fireplace burned brightly against the wall. Bookshelves lined the room. Dummies were stood up against one wall and cushions against another.

"You've done it, Neville. You've found the Room of Requirement," said an awed Hermione.

"The what?" Ron asked.

"It's also know as the Come and Go Room," Abigail continued," The Room of Requirement only appears when a person is in need of it and is always equipped with the Seeker's needs."

"So, say you really needed the toilet? Ron asked.

Hermione nodded, her face disgusted. "Charming, Ronald. But yes, that is the general idea."

"It's brilliant," said Harry. "It's like Hogwarts wants us to fight back."

* * *

The metal dummy lifted it's hand, holding the stick posing as a wand in a ready position. Neville gave Harry a questioning look and Harry nodded in encouragement.

Harry, Hermione, Abigail, and Ron had all agreed that the Room of Requirement was the best place for training Dumbledore's Army. Presently, they were working on the _Expelliarmus_ hex. Two lines were formed in front of the dummy. Neville stood in front of the left one and Harry the right one.

"_Expelliarmus!_" said Neville. The two lines ducked as Nevilles's wand went flying over their heads.

Neville gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm hopeless."

"You- you're just flourishing your wand too much," said Harry, showing Neville the moment with his own wand. "Try it like this: _Expelliarmus!_" Harry said loudly. The wand went flying from the dummy's hand.

* * *

"Stunning is one of the most useful spells in your arsenal," Harry taught a few days later, walking down the pathway created by the two lines of students on each side. "It's sort of a wizard's bread and butter really." He reached the end of the path and turned to face Nigel, standing at the other end. "So, um, come on then Nigel. Give it your best shot."

Nigel swallowed, then swung his wand wildly. "_Stupefy!_"

Harry went flying back, hitting the mirrors that lined the wall across from the fireplace. Nigel went back as well, nearly flying into the fire.

"Good," Harry gasped out, trying to stand, "not bad at all, Nigel."

* * *

"Dont worry," Ron whispered to Hermione during the next lesson, "I'll go easy on you."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione answered sarcastically.

Ron walked to the other side of the room as the students formed their two lines again.

"Come on! Come on, Ron!" Fred and George jokingly encouraged. Abigail rolled her eyes and Fred grinned wider.

Ron nodded, smiling slightly, and got into position. Hermione looked completely serious, her eyes barely blinking.

The words had barely reached Ron's mouth when Hermione waved her in one quick motion. "_Stupefy!_" Hermione shouted.

Ron's body froze and he flew back, hitting his back on the floor. Hermione lowered her wand, looking satisfied.

"I let her do that," said Ron to his brothers as he finally got up. "That's good of a man, isn't it? George nodded, snickering. "Completely intentional."

They all looked over at the giggling girls now surrounding Hermione.

* * *

A few mornings later, another notice had gone up. Most of the army gathered around, reading it together.

**PROCLAMATION**

**EDUCATIONAL DECREE NO. 82**

**ALL STUDENTS**

**WILL SUBMIT TO**

**QUESTIONING**

**ABOUT **

**SUSPECTED**

**ILLICIT**

**ACTIVITIES**

**M**

"All right," said Harry that night, excited at the thought of denying Umbridge furthur, "so, Abigail's asked if she could teach the next spell. I hope she has a reason."

He looked over at Abigail, followed by everyone else. Her wand was still up while she tied her hair back. She froze and looked up, finally noticing everyone.

"Oh, sorry!" She apoligized, pulled her wand out of her pocket. Harry pulled two dummies forward, placing them in front of the fire between the two lines of students.

"Okay," Abigail said, facing the dummies from the other side of the room, "_Reducto _is not, I repeat, _not _to be used on other people. The _Reducto _spell is for doing things like breaking structures or something incredibly hard. With stronger usage, well," she smirked, "we'll get on to that later."

The lines took a few steps back as she readied her wand. She focused on the dummy to the left.

"_Reducto!_" She said boldly. A large crack ran down the middle of the metal bot, head to toe. It fell apart, nearly a perfect split.

"Wicked," the Weasley twins said together.

"Now, that was a normal bit of spell energy," Abigail said, "but Reducto is extremely powerful. This is what happens when you put a lot of force into it, And I mean a _lot_." She aimed her wand for the other dummy.

"_Reducto!_" She shouted loudly. The dummy exploded into ash. The students close backed away quickly. The dark soot fell to the ground, where it slid into the grates in the floor.

Abigail's breath slowed down and she pushed the fallen hair out of her face. She smirked at the Army's worried faces.

"I've always liked that spell."

* * *

"Now, focus on a fixed point and try again," Harry told Neville during another lesson.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Neville's wand whizzed feebly. Neville sighed.

* * *

"Good, keep your concentration," Harry told Hermione the next week, walking by the person she had up in the air.

"Great," he said as he passed the twins doing their own.

"A little higher," Harry told Cho. He reached forward, fixing her wand. She looked back at him and lost her concentration. With a yell, Nigel fell to the floor.

"I'm okay," he assured as he stood up, "I'm okay."

* * *

Everyone was starting to really improve as another week went by. Harry walked around, fixing wands and ducking _Stupefys, Levicorpuses, and Expelliarmuses_.

"Working hard is important. But there's something that matters even more: believing in yourself. Think of it this way: every great wizards in history has started out as nothing more than what we are now: students. If they can do it, why not us?"

* * *

"_Reducto_!" Ginny shouted as the dummy they were all practicing on that day turned in the circle towards her. It exploded into ash, repeating the routine Abigail's hex had done.

Abigail smiled. "That's my girl," she said proudly, hugging Ginny happiy.

Fred, George, and Ron just looked wary.

* * *

The weeks passed quickly for the D.A. It was their last practice before Christmas Break and Harry wanted to get one last day of training in. He passed Cho and came up behind Neville.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Neville shouted.

Everyone gasped as the wand flew out of the Patil twin's hand. Neville looked amazed. Everyone started to smile, coming up and congratulating the boy.

"Fantastic Neville!" said Harry with a grin. "Well done."

Neville just smiled.

"So, that's it for this lesson," said Harry a few minutes later, standing in front of the room's door. "Now, we're not going to be meeting again until after the holidays."

The entire room awwed.

"So, just keep practicing on your own as best you can, and- and well done, everyone." said Harry sincerly. "Great work."

Applause sounded throughout the room.

"Well done mate," Ron said in a low voice to Harry.

"You've done wonderfully," said Abigail happily.

"Thanks," said Harry.

Harry's eyes fell on Cho as the group disbanded. She walked over to the Foe-Glass as people started to leave. Behind his back, the other three shared the same knowing look.

"See you in the Common Room, Harry," Hermione said smiling.

Harry spared her a nod and started towards Cho. People thanked him as he went by and he impatiently exchanged the same.

"We've been thinking, Harry," said one of the twins as the rest of the students left, "we could always slip Umbridge some Puking Pastilles into her tea."

"Or Fever Fudge," said the other. "They give you these massive pus-filled boils-"

"Right, sounds great guys. Excuse me," Harry asked as politely as possible. He stepped past them and they left, shutting the door behind them.

Harry made it to the Dark Detector and stood beside Cho. They both stared up at the picture of Cedric Spello-Taped to it, right next to the picture of the original Order and the list of their names for the Army.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked her. "I heard Umbridge gave you a hard time the other day," he said, referring to the questionings Umbridge was still conducting.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said, looking down awkwardly. "Anyways, it's worth it. It's just- it's just learning all this," they took a quick look back at the magnificent room, "makes me wonder whether if _he'd_ known it." She looked back at the picture.

"Cedric? Cedric did know this stuff," Harry told her. "He was really good. It's just... Voldemort was better."

A silent moment passed before Cho spoke up again. "You're a really good teacher, Harry." She smiled and he did too. "I've never been able to stun anything before."

They heard a crackling sound and both looked up. A familiar-looking white plant was starting to magically grow over their heads.

"Mistletoe," whispered Cho as they looked back towards each other.

"Probably full of nargles," said Harry, quoting Luna.

"What are nargles?" Cho asked confusedly.

"No idea," he said.

He leaned in, as did she, and their lips touched. They continued to kiss as the snowy mistletoe grew beautifully over their heads.

* * *

"Well, how was it?" Ron asked after Harry had made it back to the Common Room. Harry, Hermione, Abigail, and Ron were the only occupants of the Common Room, with Ron and Hermione occupying the couch and Abigail sitting next to Harry on the hearthrug.

"Wet," Harry said. "I mean, she was sort of crying."

"That bad at it, are you?" Ron grinned.

"I'm sure Harry's kissing was more than satisfactory," said Hermione.

Harry gave a sharp nod and Ron chuckled.

"Cho spends half her time crying these days," Hermione continued.

"You'd think a bit of snogging would cheer her up," said Ron.

"Well, don't you understand how she must be feeling?" Abigail asked.

Harry and Ron remained silent. Abigail rolled her eyes.

"Well, obviously she's feeling sad about Cedric and therfore confused about liking Harry and guilty about kissing him," Abigail said from the knowledge she'd collected about the whole situation.

"And conflicted because Umbridge is threatening to sack her mum from her job at the Ministry and frightened of failing her O.W.L.s because she's so busy worrying about everything else," Hermione finished.

Ron blew out a humored breath. "No person could figure all that. They'd explode."

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon," said Hermione.

The two looked over at Harry and Abigail. The two shared a look before Abigail started to giggle. Harry smiled. They turned back to Ron and Hermione as Ron started to snicker. Then Hermione grinned and started to laugh.

Harry just watched them with a smile.

**REVIEW SAYS DONUT SQUIRREL!**

**Next Update: 7/20/11**


	15. Chapter 15

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

15) The Eye of the Snake

His body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark cold stone... He was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly... It was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colors... He was turning his head... At first glance, the corridor was empty... but no... a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin drooping onto his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark...

Harry put out his tongue... He tasted the man's scent on the air... He was alive but drowsing... sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor...

Harry longed to bite the man... but he must master the impulse...He had more important work to do...

But the man was stirring... a silvery cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet; and Harry saw his vibrant, blurred outline towering above him, saw a wand withdrawn from a belt... He had no choice... He reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood...

The man was yelling in pain... then he fell silent... He slumped backward against the wall... Blood was splattering onto the floor...

His forehead hurt terribly... It was aching fit to burst...

"Harry! HARRY!"

He opened his eyes. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat; his bedcovers were twisted all around him like a straightjacket; he felt as though a white-hot poker was being applied to his forehead.

_"Harry!"_

Ron was standing over him looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry's bed. He clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him... He rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.

"He's really ill," said a scared voice. "Should we call someone?"

_"HARRY!"_

Through his blurred vision, he saw the fuzzy form of Abigail run thourgh the dormitory door, followed by what loked like the bushy head of Hermione.

Abigail ran to his bedside, avoiding the vomit, and sat on the mattress next to him. He vaguely registered something cold and wet being pressed against his forehead.

"Neville, go get help!" said Hermione.

"Okay!" said the scared voice. Harry heard footsteps run out of the dormitory.

He had to tell Ron, it was very important that he tell him... Taking great gulps of air, Harry pushed himself up in bed, willing himself not to throw up again, the pain half-blinding him.

"Your dad," he panted, his chest heaving. "Your dad's... been attacked..."

"What?" asked Ron uncomprehendingly.

"Your dad! He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere..."

"Harry, mate," said Ron uncertainly, "you... you were just dreaming..."

"No!" said Harry furiously; it was crucial that Ron understand. "It wasn't a dream... not an ordinary dream... I was there, I saw it... I _did_ it..."

He could hear Dean and Seamus muttering but did not care. The pain in his forehead was subsiding slightly, though he was still sweating and shivering feverishly. He retched again and Abigail scooted quickly backwards out of his way.

"Harry, you're not well," she said shakily. He pushed him back down and wiped his forehead again. "Neville's gone for help..."

"I'm fine!" Harry choked out to Ron, wiping his mouth on his pajamas and shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about- we need to find out where he is- he's bleeding like mad- I was- it was a huge snake..."

Abigail leant down near his face. "Harry, listen to me," she whispered, "we believe you, we believe you," she reassured when he tried to talk again, "but you neeed to _relax_. You're seriously ill." She drew back, magically re-wetting the cloth and putting it back on his forehead.

Dean and Seamus were still whispering somewhere nearby. Whether one minute passed or ten, Harry did not know; he simply lay there shaking, feeling the pain recede very slowly from his scar... Then there were hurried footsteps coming up the stairs, and he heard Neville's voice again.

"Over here, Professor..."

Professor McGonnagal came hurrying into the dormitory in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose.

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"

He had never been so pleased to see her; it was a member of the Order of the Phoenix he needed now, not someone fussing over his and prescribing useless potions.

"It's Ron's dad," he said, sitting up again against Abigail's protests. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said Professor McGonnagal, her dark eyebrows contracting.

"I don't know... I was asleep and then I was there..."

"You mean you dreamed this?"

"No!" said Harry angrily. Would none of them understand? "I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid... and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it, Mr. Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is..."

Professor McGonnagal was gazing at him through her lopsided spectacles as though horrified at what she was seeing.

"I'm not lying, and I'm not mad!" Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. "I tell you, I saw it happen!"

"I believe you, Potter," said Professor McGonnagal curtly. "Come with me- we're going to see the headmaster."

Harry was so relieved that she was taking him seriously. Abigail grabbed his arm, pulling him stiffly up off the bed. His body was still shaking and sweating furiously.

"Weasley, you ought to come too," Professor McGonnagal said. "Miss Granger, please wake the other Weasleys and send them to the headmaster's office. If Filch stops you, give him this-," she grabbed some spare parchment and a quill of Harry's bedside table, wrote a quick note, and gave it to Hermione. "The password is Fizzing Whizbee, you understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione hurried out of the dormitory.

Professor McGonnagal grabbed Harry's other arm and led him out of the room, through the portrait hole, and down the stone hallways. On Professor McGonnagal's orders, Abigail lit her wand with her free hand. Ron followed them, his face frozen in a shock-like state.

They reached Dumbledore's office in a few minutes. Professor McGonnagal recited the password and the gargoyle jumped aside, revealing the moving circular staircase behind it. The three of them stepped onto it; the wall closed back behind them with a heavy thud, and they continued to move upward in tight circles until they reached the polished oak door of Dumbledore's office. She rapped the door three times and the door opened of it's own accord. She led them inside.

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonnagal... and..._ ah_."

Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk. He stood and walked around it, his hand gliding along the dark wood of the table.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a... well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonnagal. "He says..."

"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly.

"Professor McGonnagal looked around at Harry, frowning slightly.

"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it."

"I... well, I _was_ asleep," Harry started, but was interrupted by the door opening again. Hermione stood in the doorway, with Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley standing behind her.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted. Hermione flushed a little at Dumbledore's achnoledgement. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I asked her to retreive the Weasley children," Professor McGonnagal said. The Weasleys stood in the background, looking confused.

"Very well, please come in," said Dumbledore.

The students filed in, closing the door behind them. Ginny sat with Hermione in a large chair a few feet from Harry and Abigail moved over, sitting on the armrest. Fred and George stood around it and Ron joined them.

"Harry, please continue," Dumbledore said, watching his hand that lay on the desk.

"Sir," Harry said, a little irritated that Dumbledore wouldn't look at him, "It's Ron's dad- Mr. Weasley- he's been attacked by a giant snake."

He started to recount the dream. His audience remained silent except for the Weasley children's breathing, which was getting faster and more shallow every minute. WHen Harry finished, no one spoke for a long time. Harry kept his eyes on Dumbledore.

"In the dream, were you standing next to the victim or looking down at the scene?" Dumbledore asked, his back still turned to Harry.

"Neither. I... It was like I... Professor will you please just tell me what's happening?" Harry said desperately.

"Everard?" Dumbledore called, ignoring Harry. He moved over to a portrait hung low on one of the vast walls. "Arthur's on guard duty tonight. Be sure he's found by the right people." The portrait nodded and stood, walking out of the frame.

"Sir-" Harry tried.

"Phineas?" said Dumbledore, walked past his desk and speaking to another portrait. "You must go to your portrait at Grimmauld Place. Tell them that Arthur Weasley is gravely injured and his children will be arriving there soon by Portkey."

"They've got him, Albus," Everard said, coming back into his frame. "It was close, but they think he'll make it. Once more, the Dark LOrd failed to acquire it."

"Ah, thank goodness," said Dumbledore.

Harry's anger grew stronger. Dumbledore wouldn't listen, he wouldn't even look at him. Harry's neck ached. He twisted it awkwardly, a habit that had become normal for him, and his anger rose like the snake, coming out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Look at me!" Harry shouted at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned away from Everard, his conversation interrupted. He looked at Harry for the first time since he had stepped into the office. The other occupants watched him with shocked eyes.

"What's happening to me?" Harry asked through his panting. The room was quiet again as Dumbledore stared at Harry.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Harry looked around at Snape, who was watching Harry warily.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, stepping up, "I'm afraid we can't wait, not even until the morning. Otherwise, we'll all be vunerable."

Dumbledore turned away and faced the Weasleys. "All of you, go and pack your things. You'll be leaving by Portkey in an hour's time."

"Mr. Weasley," he said, looking at Ron, "pack Harry's things as well, if you will. He'll be along shortly." Ron nodded shakily.

"And Miss Granger, I'd like you to go as well. I'll write your parents and tell them you're staying with the Weasleys for Christmas." Hermione swallowed and nodded once.

"Now, Severus, you must go," said Dumbledore, looking at the Potions Master.

Snape nodded once. He grabbed Harry's arm tighty and pulled him out of the office and down the moving spiral staircase. Once they were past the gargoyle, Snape started silently down the hall, heading for the dungeons. They started down the long staircase that led to the very bottom of the castle.

"It appears there is a connection between the Dark Lord's mind and your own," said Snape when they reached the classroom. He pushed Harry into a chair in front of a large window. Outside, snow was falling in thick flakes. "Whether he is as yet aware of this connection is for the moment unclear. Pray he remains ignorant." Snape grabbed his wand off of his desk.

"You mean, if he knows about it, then...," Harry swallowed, "he'll be able to read my mind."

"Read it, control it," Snape turned towards him, "_unhinge_ it." Snape came closer to him. "In the past, it was often the Dark Lord's pleasure to invade the minds of his victims, creating visions designed to torchure them into madness. Only after extracting the last exquisite ounce of agony, only when he had them literally _begging_ for death would he finally kill them."

Snape now stood menacingly over Harry. "Used properly, the power of Occlumency helps shield you from access or influence. In these lessons, I will attempt to penetrate your mind. You will attempt to resist. Prepare yourself."

Harry tensed as Snape pointed his wand at him.

_"Legilimens!"_ Snape shouted.

Harry grunted and his eyes squeezed shut tightly. Images started to cross him mind as if they were in fast-forward. He attemped to fight back against Snape's spell.

"Concentrate, Potter," said Snape's voice somewhere in front of him. "Focus."

Harry gasped between his teeth as the snow continued to fall.

**FUNNESS. PUSH THE BUTTON!**

**Next Update: 7/26/11 or 7/27/11, I've been having some computer difficulty.**


	16. Chapter 16

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

16) Christmas at Grimmauld Place Part 1

''Your father has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," Dumbledore said. "I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there.''

Harry, Abigail, Hermione, Ron, Fred, Geroge, and Ginny were all gathered back in Dumbledore's office an hour later. They were all still in their dressing gowns and their packed trunks were at the floor by their feet.

''How're we going?'' asked Fred, looking shaken. ''Floo powder?''

''No,'' said Dumbledore, ''Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey.' He indicated an old kettle lying innocently on his desk. ''We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back ... I want to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you-''

''He says he'll be delighted,'' said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard called Phineas had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. 'My great-great-grandson has always had an odd taste in house-guests.''

''Come here, then,'' Dumbledore said to Harry, Abigail, Hermione, and the Weasleys. ''And quickly, before anyone else joins us.''

Harry and the others gathered around Dumbledore's desk.

''You have all used a Portkey before?'' asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. ''Good. On the count of three, then ... one ... two ...''

It happened in a fraction of a second: in the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said ''three'', Harry looked up at him-they were very close together-and Dumbledore's clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry's face.

At once, Harry's scar burned white-hot, as though the old wound had burst open again-and unbidden, unwanted, but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred so powerful he felt, for that instant, he would like nothing better than to strike-to bite-to sink his fangs into the man before him-

''... three.''

Harry felt a powerful jerk behind his navel, the ground vanished from beneath his feet, his hand was glued to the kettle; he was banging into the others as they all sped forwards in a swirl of colours and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onwards ... until his feet hit the ground so hard his knees buckled, the kettle clattered to the ground, and somewhere close at hand a voice said:

''Back again, the blood-traitor brats. Is it true their father's dying?''

''OUT!'' roared a second voice.

Harry scrambled to his feet and looked around; they had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The only sources of light were the fire and one guttering candle, which illuminated the remains of a solitary supper. Kreacher was disappearing through the door to the hall, looking back at them malevolently as he hitched up his loincloth; Sirius was hurrying towards them all, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slightly Mundungus-like whiff of stale drink about him.

Abigail scrambled up off the floor. She moved quickly across the basement. She threw her arms around Sirius's neck in a tight hug; she had to stand on her tip-toes to reach him. He returned the gesture as the others got up. Harry felt a small pang of jealousy at the sight.

''What's going on?'' Sirius said, pulling away from Abigail. ''Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured-''

''Ask Harry,'' said Fred.

''It was-'' Harry began; this was even worse than telling McGonagall and Dumbledore. ''I had a-a kind of-vision ...''

And he retold them all that he had seen in his dream. Ron, who was still very white, gave him a fleeting look, but did not speak. When Harry had finished, Fred, George and Ginny continued to stare at him for a moment. Harry did not know whether he was imagining it or not, but he fancied there was something accusatory in their looks.

''Is Mum here?'' said Fred, turning to Sirius.

''She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet,'' said Sirius. ''The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now.''

''We've got to go to St. Mungos,'' said Ginny urgently, She looked around at her brothers ''Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?''

''Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!'' said Sirius.

''Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want,'' said Fred, with a mulish expression. ''He's our dad!''

''And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?''

''What does that matter?'' said George hotly.

''It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!'' said Sirius angrily. ''Have you any idea what the Ministry would make off that information?''

Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still ashen-faced and silent.

Ginny said, ''Somebody else could have told us ... we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry...''

''Like who?'' said Sirius impatiently. ''Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's-''

''We don't care about the dumb Order!'' shouted Fred.

''It's our dad dying we're talking about!'' yelled George.

"Please, everyone, just calm-" Hermione tried.

''Your father knew what he was getting into and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!'' Sirius interrupted. ''This is how it is-this is why you're not in the Order-you don't understand-there are things worth dying for!''

''Easy for you to say, stuck here!'' bellowed Fred. ''I don't see you risking your neck!''

Abigail's face turned into a deep glare. Fred seemed to shink under it, but his anger still seethed.

The little colour remaining in Sirius's face drained from it. He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit Fred, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of determined calm.

''I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?''

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and they sat down too. Hermione took Ron's other side. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats either side of Ginny. Abigail sighed and sat, looking exhausted. One of her hands kneeded the side of her face. Sirius took the chair next to her.

''That's right,'' said Sirius encouragingly, ''come on, lets all ... let's all have a drink while we're waiting. Accio Butterbeer!''

He raised his wand as he spoke and eight bottles came flying towards them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, scattering the debris of Sirius's meal, and stopped neatly in front of the eight of them. They all drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of the crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.

Harry was only drinking to have something to do with his hands. His stomach was full of horrible hot, bubbling guilt. They would not be here if it were not for him; they would all still be asleep in bed. And it was no good telling himself that by raising the alarm he had ensured that Mr. Weasley was found, because there was also the inescapable business of it being he who had attacked Mr. Weasley in the first place.

_Don't be stupid, you haven't got fangs_, he told himself, trying to keep calm, though the hand on his Butterbeer bottle was shaking. _You were lying in bed, you weren't attacking anyone ..._

_But then, what just happened in Dumbledore's office? _he asked himself. _I felt like I wanted to attack Dumbledore, too ...  
_  
He put the bottle down a little harder than he meant to, and it slopped over on to the table. No one took any notice. Then a burst of fire in midair illuminated the dirty plates in front of them and, as they gave cries of shock, a scroll of parchment fell with a thud on to the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.

''Fawkes!'' said Sirius at once, snatching up the parchment. ''That's not Dumbledore's writing- it must be a message from your mother-here-''

He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud: ''Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.''

George looked around the table.

''Still alive ...'' he said slowly. ''But that makes it sound ...''

He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded to Harry, too, as though Mr. Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Abigail's placed a hand on George's shoulder caringly. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George's hands and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, who felt his hand shaking on his Butterbeer bottle again and clenched it more tightly to stop the trembling. Hermione looked a bit out of place.

If Harry had ever sat through a longer night than this one, he could not remember it. Sirius suggested once, without any real conviction, that they all go to bed, but the Weasleys' looks of disgust were answer enough. They mostly sat in silence around the table, watching the candle wick sinking lower and lower into liquid wax, occasionally raising a bottle to their lips, speaking only to check the time, to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure each other that if there was bad news, they would know straightaway, for Mrs. Weasley must long since have arrived at St. Mungo's.

Fred fell into a doze, his head lolling sideways on to his shoulder. George looked too nervous to do anything by sit and stare. Ginny was curled like a cat on her chair, but her eyes were open; Harry could see them reflecting the firelight. Ron was sitting with his head in his hands, whether awake or asleep it was impossible to tell. Hermione continued to drink her butterbear, lost in thought. Abigail's head rested on Sirius's shoulder sadly. Harry and Sirius looked at each other every so often, intruders upon the family grief, waiting ... waiting ...

At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch, the kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all turned to look at her, Fred, Ron and Harry half rising from their chairs, she gave a wan smile.

''He's going to be all right,'' she said, her voice weak with tiredness. ''He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now; he's going to take the morning off work.''

Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his Butterbeer in one. Hermione and Abigail shared small smiles.

''Breakfast!'' said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. ''Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!''

But Kreacher did not answer the summons.

''Oh, forget it, then,'' muttered Sirius, counting the people in front of him. ''So, it's breakfast for-let's see-nine ... bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast-''

Harry hurried over to the stove to help. He did not want to intrude on the Weasleys' happiness and he dreaded the moment when Mrs. Weasley would ask him to recount his vision. However, he had barely taken plates from the dresser when Mrs Weasley lifted them out of his hands and pulled him into a hug.

''I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry,'' she said in a muffled voice. ''They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis ...''

Harry could hardly bear her gratitude, but fortunately she soon released him to turn to Sirius and thank him for looking after her children through the night. Sirius said he was very pleased to have been able to help, and hoped they would all stay with him as long as Mr. Weasley was in hospital.

''Oh, Sirius, I'm so grateful ... they think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer ... of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas.''

''The more the merrier!'' said Sirius with such obvious sincerity that Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, threw on an apron and began to help with breakfast.

Harry watched them silently for a moment. He felt someone at his side and looked over at Abigail. Until now, he hadn't noticed how short she was. The top of her head barely reached his nose. She watched him softly.

"It'll be all right," she said, patting his shoulder. She gave him a small smile before going over to help Sirius and Mrs. Weasley.

Everyone but Harry spent the rest of the morning sleeping. He went up to the bedroom he and Ron had shared over the last few weeks of summer, but while Ron crawled into bed and was asleep within minutes, Harry sat fully clothed, hunched against the cold metal bars of the bedstead, keeping himself deliberately uncomfortable, determined not to fall into a doze, terrified that he might become the serpent again in his sleep and wake to find that he had attacked Ron, or else slithered through the house after one of the others ...

When Ron woke up, Harry pretended to have enjoyed a refreshing nap too. Everybody except Harry was riotously happy and talkative as they changed out of their robes into jeans and sweatshirts. Harry noticed that Abigail, while looking happy and refreshed, looked a bit tired and stumbled quite a bit. When Tonks and Mad-Eye turned up to escort them across London, they greeted them gleefully, laughing at the bowler hat Mad-Eye was wearing at an angle to conceal his magical eye and assuring him, truthfully, that Tonks, whose hair was short and bright pink again, would attract far less attention on the Underground.

Tonks was very interested in Harry's vision of the attack on Mr. Weasley, something Harry was not remotely interested in discussing.

''There isn't any Seer blood in your family, is there?'' she enquired curiously, as they sat side by side on a train rattling towards the heart of the city.

''No,'' said Harry thinking of Professor Trelawney and feeling insulted.

''No,'' said Tonks musingly, ''no, I suppose it's not really prophecy you're doing, is it? I mean, you're not seeing the future, you're seeing the present ... it's odd, isn't it? Useful, though ...''

Harry didn't answer and turned from her. His eyes skimmed over the others before landing on Abigail. She'd taken a seat to herself and was now sketching something on a small pad. After a few more minutes, her pencil stopped. Her eyebrows creased and her mouth turned down into a frown.

"Hey, you okay?" Harry asked.

"Hmm?" Abigail asked, looking up. "Oh, oh yes..." she answered distractedly as she tore the paper out of her notebook. Hurredly, she folded it and stuffed it out of sight. She didn't draw any more after that.

When they got out at the next stop, a station in the very heart of London, and in the bustle of leaving the train Harry was able to allow Fred and George to get between himself and Tonks, who was leading the way. They all followed her up the escalator, Moody clunking along at the back of the group, his bowler tilted low and one gnarled hand stuck in between the buttons of his coat, clutching his wand. Harry thought he sensed the concealed eye staring hard at him. Trying to avoid any more questions about his dream, he asked Mad-Eye where St. Mungo's was hidden.

''Not far from here,'' grunted Moody as they stepped out into the wintry air on a broad store-lined street packed with Christmas shoppers. He pushed Harry a little ahead of him and stumped along just behind; Harry knew the eye was rolling in all directions under the tilted hat. ''Wasn't easy to find a good location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alley was big enough and we couldn't have it underground like the Ministry-wouldn't be healthy. In the end they managed to get hold of a building up here. Theory was, sick wizards could come and go and just blend in with the crowd...''

He seized Harry's shoulder to prevent them being separated by a gaggle of shoppers plainly intent on nothing but making it into a nearby shop full of electrical gadgets.

''Here we go,'' said Moody a moment later.

They had arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red-brick department store called Purge & Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modelling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all the dusty doors read: 'Closed for Refurbishment'. Harry distinctly heard a large woman laden with plastic shopping bags say to her friend as they passed, ''It's _never_open, that place ...''

''Right,'' said Tonks, beckoning them towards a window displaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummy. Its false eyelashes were hanging off and it was modelling a green nylon pinafore dress. ''Everybody ready?''

They nodded, clustering around her. Moody gave Harry another shove between the shoulder blades to urge him forward and Tonks leaned close to the glass, looking up at the very ugly dummy, her breath steaming up the glass. ''Wotcher,'' she said, ''we're here to see Arthur Weasley.''

Harry thought how absurd it was for Tonks to expect the dummy to hear her talking so quietly through a sheet of glass, with buses rumbling along behind her and all the racket of a street full of shoppers. Then he reminded himself that dummies couldn't hear anyway. Next second, his mouth opened in shock as the dummy gave a tiny nod and beckoned with its jointed finger, and Tonks had seized Ginny and Mrs. Weasley by the elbows, stepped right through the glass and vanished.

Fred, George and Ron stepped after them. Hermione and Abigail went through together. Harry glanced around at the jostling crowd; not one of them seemed to have a glance to spare for window displays as ugly as those of Purge & Dowse Ltd; nor did any of them seem to have noticed that eight people had just melted into thin air in front of them.

''C'mon,'' growled Moody, giving Harry yet another poke in the back, and together they stepped forward through what felt like a sheet of cool water, emerging quite warm and dry on the other side.

There was no sign of the ugly dummy or the space where she had stood. They were in what seemed to be a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests. The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very peculiar noises: a sweaty-faced witch in the centre of the front row, who was fanning herself vigorously with a copy of the Daily Prophet, kept letting off a high-pitched whistle as steam came pouring out of her mouth; a grubby-looking warlock in the corner clanged like a bell every time he moved and, with each clang, his head vibrated horribly so that he had to seize himself by the ears to hold it steady.

Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards like Umbridge's. Harry noticed the emblem embroidered on their chests: a wand and bone, crossed.

''Are they doctors?'' he asked Ron quietly.

''Doctors?'' said Ron, looking startled. ''Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers.''

''Over here!'' called Mrs. Weasley, above the renewed clanging of the warlock in the corner, and they followed her to the queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at a desk marked wall behind her was covered in notices and posters saying things like: A CLEAN CAULDRON KEEPS POTIONS FROM BECOMING POISONS and ANTIDOTES ARE ANTI-DON'TS UNLESS APPROVED BY A QUALIFIED HEALER. There was also a large portrait of a witch with long silver ringlets which was labelled:

**Dilys Derwent**

St. Mungo's Healer 1722-1741

Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

1741-1768

Dilys was eyeing the Weasley party closely as though counting them; when Harry caught her eye she gave a tiny wink, walked sideways out of her portrait and vanished.

Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard was performing an odd on-the-spot jig and trying, in between yelps of pain, to explain his predicament to the witch behind the desk.

''It's these- ouch-shoes my brother gave me-ow-they re eating my-OUCH-feet-look at them, there must be some kind of-AARGH-jinx on them and I can't- AAAAARGH-get them off.'' He hopped from one foot to the other as though dancing on hot coals.

''The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?'' said the blonde witch, irritably pointing at a large sign to the left of her desk. ''You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!''

As the wizard hobbled and pranced sideways out of the way, the Weasley party moved forward a few steps and Harry read the floor guide:

_**ARTEFACT ACCIDENTS... Ground floor**_

(Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc.)

CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES... First floor

(Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.)

MAGICAL BUGS... Second floor

(Contagious maladies, e.g. dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus, etc.)

POTION AND PLANT POISONING... Third floor

(Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable, giggling, etc.)

SPELL DAMAGE... Fourth floor

(Unliftable jinxes, hexes, incorrectly applied charms, etc.)

VISITORS' TEAROOM / HOSPITAL SHOP... Fifth floor

If you are unsure where to go, incapable of normal speech, or unable to remember why you are here, our welcome witch will be pleased to help.

__  
A very old, stooped wizard with a hearing trumpet had shuffled to the front of the queue now. ''I'm here to see Broderick Bode!'' he wheezed.

''Ward forty-nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting your time,'' said the witch dismissively. ''He's completely addled, you know-still thinks he's a teapot. Next!''

A harassed-looking wizard was holding his small daughter tightly by the ankle while she flapped around his head using the immensely large, feathery wings that had sprouted right out through the back of her romper suit.

''Fourth floor,'' said the witch, in a bored voice, without asking, and the man disappeared through the double doors beside the desk, holding his daughter like an oddly shaped balloon. ''Next!''

Mrs. Weasley moved forward to the desk.

''Hello,'' she said, ''my husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us-?''

''Arthur Weasley?'' said the witch, running her finger down a long list in front of her. ''Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn Ward.''

''Thank you,'' said Mrs. Weasley. ''Come on, you lot.''

They followed her through the double doors and along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with more portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soapsuds. More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed one door, and every now and then they heard distant wailing. They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the ''Creature-Induced Injuries'' corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words: **'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites. **Underneath this was a card in a brass holder on which had been handwritten: **Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck. Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye.  
**  
''We'll wait outside, Molly,'' Tonks said. ''Arthur won't want too many visitors at once ... it ought to be just the family first.''

Mad-Eye growled his approval of this idea and set himself with his back against the corridor wall, his magical eye spinning in all directions. Ginny grabbed Abigail and Hermione's hands nervously and pulled them inside with her. Harry drew back like Mad-Eye and Tonks, but Mrs Weasley reached out a hand and pushed him through the door, saying, ''Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you.''

The ward was small and rather dingy, as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from more shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizard on the wall, captioned: **Urquhart Rackharrow, 1612-1697, Inventor of the Entrail-Expelling Curse.  
**  
There were only three patients. Mr. Weasley was occupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. Harry was pleased and relieved to see that he was propped up on several pillows and reading the Daily Prophet by the solitary ray of sunlight falling on to his bed. He looked up as they walked towards him and, seeing who it was, beamed.

''Hello!'' he called, throwing the Prophet aside. ''Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later.''

''How are you, Arthur?'' asked Mrs. Weasley, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face. ''You're still looking a bit peaky.''

''I feel absolutely fine,'' said Mr. Weasley brightly, holding out his good arm to give Ginny a hug. ''If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home.''

''Why can't they take them off, Arthur?'' asked Abigail gently.

''Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try,'' said Mr. Weasley cheerfully, reaching across for his wand, which lay on his bedside cabinet, and waving it so that eight extra chairs appeared at his bedside to seat them all. ''It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open. They're sure they'll find an antidote, though; they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there,'' he said, dropping his voice and nodding towards the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling. ''Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all.''

''A werewolf?'' whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed. ''Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?''

''It's two weeks till full moon,'' Mr. Weasley reminded her quietly. ''They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him-didn't mention names, of course- but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage.''

''What did he say?'' asked George.

''Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up,'' said Mr. Weasley sadly. ''And that woman over there,'' he indicated the only other occupied bed, which was right beside the door, ''won't tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings.''

''So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?'' asked Fred, pulling his chair closer to the bed.

''Well, you already know, don't you?' 'said Mr. Weasley, with a significant smile at Harry. ''It's very simple-I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on and bitten.''

''Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?'' asked Hermione, indicating the newspaper Mr. Weasley had cast aside.

''No, of course not,'' said Mr. Weasley, with a slightly bitter smile, ''the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got-''

''Arthur!'' Mrs Weasley warned him.

''-got-er- me,'' Mr. Weasley said hastily, though Harry was quite sure that was not what he had meant to say.

''So where were you when it happened, Dad?'' asked Ginny.

''That's my business,'' said Mr. Weasley, though with a small smile. He snatched up the Daily Prophet, shook it open again and said, ''I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets back in the summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in-''

''When you say you were "on duty",'' Fred interrupted in a low voice, ''what were you doing?''

''You heard your father,'' whispered Mrs. Weasley, ''we are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur.''

''Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off the toilet charge,'' said Mr. Weasley grimly. ''I can only suppose gold changed hands-''

''You were guarding it, weren't you?'' said George quietly. ''The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?''

''George, be quiet!'' snapped Mrs. Weasley.

''Anyway,'' said Mr Weasley, in a raised voice, ''this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because, according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone re-growth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?''

And he looked eagerly around as though hoping to see a signpost.

''Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?'' asked Fred, looking at his father for a reaction. ''A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?''

''That's enough,'' said Mrs. Weasley crossly. ''Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside,'' she added to her children, Hermione, Abigail, and Harry. ''You can come and say goodbye afterwards. Go on.''

They trooped back into the corridor. Mad-Eye and Tonks went in and closed the door of the ward behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows.

''Fine,'' he said coolly, rummaging in his pockets, ''be like that. Don't tell us anything.''

''Looking for these?'' said George, holding out what looked like a tangle of flesh-coloured string.

''You read my mind,'' said Fred, grinning. ''Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?''

He and George disentangled the string and separated seven Extendable Ears from each other. Fred and George handed them around. Harry hesitated to take one.

''Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life. If anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him, it's you.''

Grinning in spite of himself, Harry took the end of the string and inserted it into his ear as the twins had done.

''Okau, go!'' Fred whispered.

The flesh-coloured strings wriggled like long skinny worms and snaked under the door. At first, Harry could hear nothing, then he jumped as he heard Tonks whispering as clearly as though she were standing right beside him.

''... they searched the whole area but couldn't find the snake anywhere. It just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur ... but You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?''

''I reckon he sent it as a lookout,'' growled Moody, ''cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had a lot more time to look around. So, Potter says he saw it all happen?''

''Yes,'' said Mrs Weasley. She sounded rather uneasy. ''You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this.''

''Yeah, well,'' said Moody, ''there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.''

''Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning,'' whispered Mrs Weasley.

'' 'Course he's worried,'' growled Moody. ''The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realise what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him-''

Harry pulled the Extendable Ear out of his own, his heart hammering very fast and heat rushing up his face. He looked around at the others. They were all staring at him, the strings still trailing from their ears, looking suddenly fearful.

**Dramatic, scary, nerve-wracking, Harry-licsious FUN!**

**Next Update: 9/3/11**


	17. Chapter 17

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

16) Christmas at Grimmauld Place Part 2

Was this why Dumbledore would no longer meet Harry's eyes? Did he expect to see Voldemort staring out of them, afraid, perhaps, that their vivid green might turn suddenly to scarlet, with catlike slits for pupils? Harry remembered how the snakelike face of Voldemort had once forced itself out of the back of Professor Quirrell's head and ran his hand over the back of his own, wondering what it would feel like if Voldemort burst out of his skull.

He felt dirty, contaminated, as though he were carrying some deadly germ, unworthy to sit on the Underground train back from the hospital with innocent, clean people whose minds and bodies were free of the taint of Voldemort ... he had not merely seen the snake, he had been the snake, he knew it now ...

A truly terrible thought then occurred to him, a memory bobbing to the surface of his mind, one that made his insides writhe and squirm like serpents.

What's he after, apart from followers?

Stuff he can only get by stealth ... like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time.

_I'm the weapon_, Harry thought, and it was as though poison were pumping through his veins, chilling him, bringing him out in a sweat as he swayed with the train through the dark tunnel._ I'm the one Voldemort's trying to use, that's why they've got guards around me everywhere I go, it's not for my protection, it's for other people's, only it's not working, they can't have someone on me all the time at Hogwarts ... I did attack Mr. Weasley last night, it was me. Voldemort made me do it and he could be inside me, listening to my thought's right now-  
_  
''Are you all right, Harry, dear?'' whispered Mrs. Weasley, leaning across Ginny to speak to him as the train rattled along through its dark tunnel. ''You don't look very well. Are you feeling sick?''

They were all watching him. He shook his head violently and stared up at an advertisement for home insurance.

''Harry, dear, are you sure you're all right?'' said Mrs. Weasley in a worried voice, as they walked around the unkempt patch of grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place. ''You look ever so pale ... are you sure you slept this morning? You go upstairs to bed right now and you can have a couple of hours of sleep before dinner, all right?''

He nodded; here was a ready-made excuse not to talk to any of the others, which was precisely what he wanted, so when she opened the front door he hurried straight past the trolls-leg umbrella stand, up the stairs and into his and Ron's bedroom.

Here, he began to pace up and down, past the two beds and Phineas Nigellus's empty picture frame, his brain teeming and seething with questions and ever more dreadful ideas.

How had he become a snake? Perhaps he was an Animagus ... no, he couldn't be, he would know ... perhaps _Voldemort_ was an Animagus ... _yes_, thought Harry, _that would fit, he _would _turn into a snake of course ... and when he's possessing me, then we both transform ... that still doesn't explain how I got to London and back to my bed in the space of about five minutes ... but then Voldemort's about the most powerful wizard in the world, apart from Dumbledore, it's probably no problem at all to him to transport people like that...  
_  
And then, with a terrible stab of panic, he thought, _but this is insane-if Voldemort's possessing me, I'm giving him a clear view into the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix right now! He'll know who's in the Order and where Sirius is ... and I've heard loads of stuff I shouldn't have, everything Sirius told me the first night I was here ...  
_  
There was only one thing for it: he would have to leave Grimmauld Place straightaway. He would spend Christmas at Hogwarts without the others, which would keep them safe over the holidays at least ... but no, that wouldn't do, there were still plenty of people at Hogwarts to maim and injure. What if it was Seamus, Dean or Neville next time? He stopped his pacing and stood staring at Phineas Nigellus's empty frame. A leaden sensation was settling in the pit of his stomach. He had no alternative: he was going to have to return to Privet Drive, cut himself off from other wizards entirely.

Well, if he had to do it, he thought, there was no point hanging around. Trying with all his might not to think how the Dursleys were going to react when they found him on their doorstep six months earlier than they had expected, he strode over to his trunk, slammed the lid shut and locked it, then glanced around automatically for Hedwig before remembering that she was still at Hogwarts-well, her cage would be one less thing to carry-he seized one end of his trunk and had dragged it halfway towards the door when a snide voice said, ''Running away, are we?''

He looked around. Phineas Nigellus had appeared on the canvas of his portrait and was leaning against the frame, watching Harry with an amused expression on his face.

''Not running away, no,'' said Harry shortly, dragging his trunk a few more feet across the room.

''I thought,'' said Phineas Nigellus, stroking his pointed beard, ''that to belong in Gryffindor house you were supposed to be _brave_? It looks to me as though you would have been better off in my own house. We Slytherins are brave, yes, but not stupid. For instance, given the choice, we will always choose to save our own necks.''

''It's not my own neck I'm saving,'' said Harry tersely, tugging the trunk over a patch of particularly uneven, moth-eaten carpet right in front of the door.

''Oh, I see,'' said Phineas Nigellus, still stroking his beard, ''this is no cowardly flight-you are being noble.''

Harry ignored him. His hand was on the doorknob when Phineas Nigellus said lazily, ''I have a message for you from Albus Dumbledore.''

Harry spun around.

''What is it?''

'"Stay where you are." '

''I haven't moved!'' said Harry, his hand still upon the doorknob. ''So what's the message?''

''I have just given it to you, dolt,'' said Phineas Nigellus smoothly. ''Dumbledore says, "_Stay where you are."''  
_  
''Why?'' said Harry eagerly, dropping the end of his trunk. ''Why does he want me to stay? What else did he say?''

''Nothing whatsoever,'' said Phineas Nigellus, raising a thin black eyebrow as though he found Harry impertinent.

Harry's temper rose to the surface like a snake rearing from long grass. He was exhausted, he was confused beyond measure, he had experienced terror, relief, then terror again in the last twelve hours, and still Dumbledore did not want to talk to him!

''So that's it, is it?'' he said loudly. '"_Stay there?_That's all anyone could tell me after I got attacked by those dementors, too! Just stay put while the grown-ups sort it out, Harry! We won't bother telling you anything, though, because your tiny little brain might not be able to cope with it!''

''You know,'' said Phineas Nigellus, even more loudly than Harry, ''this is precisely why I _loathed _being a teacher! Young people are so infernally convinced that they are absolutely right about everything. Has it not occurred to you, my poor puffed-up popinjay, that there might be an excellent reason why the Headmaster of Hogwarts is not confiding every tiny detail of his plans to you? Have you never paused, while feeling hard-done-by, to note that following Dumbledore's orders has never yet led you into harm? , like all young people, you are quite sure that you alone feel and think, you alone recognise danger, you alone are the only one clever enough to realise what the Dark Lord may be planning...''

''He is planning something to do with me, then?'' said Harry swiftly.

''Did I say that?'' said Phineas Nigellus, idly examining his silk gloves. ''Now, if you will excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to adolescent agonising ... good-day to you.''

And he strolled to the edge of his frame and out of sight.

''Fine, go then!'' Harry bellowed at the empty frame. ''And tell Dumbledore thanks for nothing!''

The empty canvas remained silent. Fuming, Harry dragged his trunk back to the foot of his bed, then threw himself face down on the moth-eaten covers, his eyes shut, his body heavy and aching.

He felt as though he had journeyed for miles and miles ... it seemed impossible that less than twenty-four hours ago Cho Chang had been approaching him under the mistletoe ... he was so tired ... he was scared to sleep ... yet he did not know how long he could fight it ... Dumbledore had told him to stay ... that must mean he was allowed to sleep ... but he was scared ... what if it happened again?

He was sinking into shadows ...

It was as though a film in his head had been waiting to start. He was walking down a deserted corridor towards a plain black door, past rough stone walls, torches, and an open doorway on to a flight of stone steps leading downstairs on the left ...

He reached the black door but could not open it... he stood gazing at it, desperate for entry ... something he wanted with all his heart lay beyond ... a prize beyond his dreams ... if only his scar would stop prickling ... then he would be able to think more clearly ...

''Harry,'' said Ron's voice, from far, far away, ''Mum says dinners ready, but she'll save you something if you want to stay in bed.''

Harry opened his eyes, but Ron had already left the room.

_He doesn't want to be on his own with me_, Harry thought. _Not after what he heard Moody say...  
_  
He supposed none of them would want him there any more, now that they knew what was inside him...

He would not go down to dinner; he would not inflict his company on them. He turned over on to his other side and, after a while, dropped back off to sleep. He woke much later, in the early hours of the morning, his insides aching with hunger and Ron snoring in the next bed. Squinting around the room, he saw the dark outline of Phineas Nigellus standing again in his portrait and it occurred to Harry that Dumbledore had probably sent Phineas Nigellus to watch over him, in case he attacked somebody else.

The feeling of being unclean intensified. He half-wished he had not obeyed Dumbledore and stayed... if this was how life was going to be for him in Grimmauld Place from now on, maybe he would be better off in Privet Drive after all.

* * *

Everybody else spent the following morning putting up Christmas decorations. Harry could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas. Harry could hear his voice echoing up through the floor in the cold drawing room where he was sitting alone, watching the sky growing whiter outside the windows, threatening snow, all the time feeling a savage pleasure that he was giving the others the opportunity to keep talking about him, as they were bound to be doing.

Harry settled himself more comfortably against the wall of Buckbeak's room where he was hiding, trying to ignore how hungry he felt as he fed dead rats to the hippogriff. It came as a slight shock when a light knock sounded on the door.

''That's it, Harry,'' said Abigail's voice. ''I'm coming in, I want to talk to you.''

''What are you doing here?'' Harry asked her as she pushed open the door. She didn't answer, bowing to Buckbeak briefly. He bowed back before resumed his scratching at the straw-strewn floor for any fragments of rat he may have dropped.

"I'm here because I'm sick of wondering what's going on with you," Abigail said softly. She shut the door and walked over to him. "We need to talk." She slid down the wall next to him and folded her arms around her legs. She watched him carefully, but he kept his gaze back on Buckbeak. "What's going on, Harry?"

He didn't answer her; what was he supposed to say?

"I don't care what it is Harry," Abigail said, shifting her position to a more comfortable one, "but I'm not leaving until you tell me."

He finally looked over at her, convinced she was bluffing, but her face was set and her jaw was locked. She sat cross-legged, staring across the room, while he sat in disbelief. Harry rolled his eyes; he knew she'd get hungry or tired and crack.

For the next few hours they sat, never talking or communicating. Abigail kept to her word; she didn't leave the attic and she barely moved from her Indian-style position. Even when Mrs. Weasley called their names softly up the stairs for lunch and Harry heard her stomach growl loudly, she did not move, though her face seemed to tighten.

Harry started to feel guilty, then irritated. Was she doing this on purpose? Was she trying to make him into give in? Was she ignoring mouth-watering food and a soft bed and her happy uncle to get him to leave this room and rejoin the others?

_Well, _Harry thought stubbornly, _I'll show her..._

As time went on, Harry grew more irritable as his guilt yelled louder and louder at him. His eyes constantly flicked over towards her, wishing with all his being that she would give up and leave and let him be, but she never did. By dinnertime, he'd had enough.

"Fine!" Harry sighed loudly with a groan.

Abigail looked over at him, showing no sign of smugness over her clear victory. She finally moved, shifting awkwardly and stretching her stiff neck.

''How're you feeling?'' she asked quietly, facing him.

''I... I dunno,'' said Harry, feeling the truth of his words.

''You've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's; we all know something's going on with you." Abigail said.

''You do, do you?'' said Harry darkly.

''Well, you have,'' she insisted. ''And you won't look at any of us!''

''It's you lot who won't look at me!'' said Harry angrily.

''Look, the others and I talked about what we overheard last night on the Extendable Ears-''

''Yeah?'' growled Harry. ''All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it.''

'We wanted to talk _to you_, Harry,'' said Abigail, ''but as you've been hiding ever since we got back-''

''I didn't want anyone to talk to me,'' said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.

''Well, that was a bit stupid of you,'' said Abigail, ''seeing as you and I both know someone who has been possessed by You-Know-Who, and she told me exactly how it feels.''

Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him.

''I forgot,'' he said.

"I know,'' said Abigail calmly.

'''So ... so, does Ginny think I'm being possessed, then?''

''Well, she said she couldn't remember what she'd been doing for hours at a time; she'd find herself somewhere and not know how she got there. Can you remember everything you've been doing?'' Abigail asked. ''Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?''

Harry racked his brains.

''No,'' he said.

''Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you,'' said Abigail simply.

Harry hardly dared believe her, yet his heart was lightening almost in spite of himself.

''That dream I had about Mr. Weasley and the snake, though-''

''Harry, Hermione said you've had these dreams before,'' Abigail said. ''You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year.''

''This was different,'' said Harry, shaking his head. ''I was inside that snake. It was like I was the snake ... what if Voldemort somehow transported me to London-?''

''One day,'' said Abigail, sounding thoroughly exasperated, ''you'll read _Hogwarts: A History_, and perhaps it will remind you that you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry. Ron said you didn't leave your bed. He saw you thrashing around in your sleep for at least a minute before he could wake you up.''

Harry started thinking. What Abigail was saying was not only comforting, it made sense ...

_I'm not the weapon after all_, thought Harry. His heart swelled with happiness and relief.

Abigail smiled at the uplifted look starting to dawn on his face. "So, dinner then?" she asked, lightening any leftover tension.

He nodded enthusiastically, finally caving to his stomach, and followed her out the attic door, missing the small smirk on her face.

* * *

How could he have dreamed of returning to Privet Drive for Christmas? Sirius's delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognisable. The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view, and even the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.

Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed and Ron already halfway through opening his own, rather larger, pile.

''Good haul this year,'' he informed Harry through a cloud of paper. ''Thanks for the Broom Compass, it's excellent; beats Hermione's-_she got me a homework planner_-''

Harry sorted through his presents and found one with Hermione's handwriting on it. She had given him, too, a book that resembled a diary except that it said things like _Do it today or later you'll pay! _every time he opened a page.

Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_, which had superb, moving colour illustrations of all the counter-jinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly; he could see it was going to be highly useful in his plans for the DA, as was Abigail's present, which had been an inch-thick book on famous Defense Against the Dark Arts masters, good and bad. Hagrid had sent a furry brown wallet that had fangs, which were presumably supposed to be an anti-theft device, but unfortunately prevented Harry putting any money in without getting his fingers ripped off. Tonks's present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room. Ron had given him an enormous box of Every-Flavour Beans, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies, and Dobby a truly dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself. He had just turned it upside-down to see whether it looked better that way when, with a loud crack, Fred and George Apparated at the foot of his bed.

''Merry Christmas,'' said George. ''Don't go downstairs for a bit.''

''Why not?'' said Ron.

''Mum's crying again,'' said Fred heavily. ''Percy sent back his Christmas jumper.''

''Without a note,'' added George. ''Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything.''

''We tried to comfort her,'' said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry's portrait. ''Told her Percy's nothing more than a humungous pile of rat droppings.''

''Didn't work,'' said George, helping himself to a Chocolate Frog. ''So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer her up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon.''

''What's that supposed to be, anyway?'' asked Fred, squinting at Dobbys painting. ''Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes.''

''It's Harry!'' said George, pointing at the back of the picture, ''says so on the back!''

''Good likeness,'' said Fred, grinning. Harry threw his new homework diary at him; it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor where it said happily, _If you've dotted the i's and crossed the t's then you may do whatever you please!  
_  
They got up and dressed. They could hear the various inhabitants of the house calling ''Merry Christmas'' to one another. On their way downstairs they met Hermione and Abigail.

"Thanks for the book, Harry,'' she said happily. ''I've been wanting that _New Theory of Numerology _for ages! And that perfume's really unusual, Ron.''

''No problem,'' said Ron.

"Is this supposed to be ironic?" Abigail smirked, holding up the new copy of _Hogwarts: A History _Harry had gotten her. Harry just grinned, ignoring Hermione and Ron's confused faces.

Mrs. Weasley was the only person in the basement when they arrived there. She was standing at the stove and sounded as though she had a bad head cold as she wished them ''Merry Christmas'', and they all averted their eyes.

"Morning all," said Sirius, emerging from the pantry carrying a large turkey. "Merry Christmas," he said, ruffling Harry's hair and giving Abigail a kiss on top of hers. "Has anyone seen Kreacher lately?'

''I haven't seen him since the night we came back here,'' said Harry. ''You were ordering him out of the kitchen.''

''Yeah ...'' said Sirius, frowning. ''You know, I think that's the last time I saw him, too ... he must be hiding upstairs somewhere.''

''He couldn't have left, could he?'' said Hermione. ''I mean, when you said "out", maybe he thought you meant get out of the house?''

''No, no, house-elves can't leave unless they're given clothes. They're tied to their family's house,'' said Sirius.

''They can leave the house if they really want to,'' Harry contradicted him. ''Dobby did, he left the Malfoy's' to give me warnings two years ago. He had to punish himself afterwards, but he still managed it.''

Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, ''I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or something. Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died ... but I mustn't get my hopes up.''

Fred, George and Ron laughed; Hermione pursed her lips.

Once they had eaten their Christmas lunch, the Weasleys were planning to pay Mr. Weasley another visit, escorted by Mad-Eye and Lupin. Mundungus turned up in time for Christmas pudding and trifle, having managed to 'borrow' a car for the occasion, as the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. The car, which Harry doubted very much had been taken with the consent of its owner, had been enlarged with a spell like the Weasleys' old Ford Anglia had once been. Although normally proportioned outside, ten people with Mundungus driving were able to fit into it quite comfortably. Mrs. Weasley hesitated before getting inside-Harry knew her disapproval of Mundungus was battling with her dislike of travelling without magic-but, finally, the cold outside and her children's pleading triumphed, and she settled herself into the back seat between Fred and Bill with good grace.

Harry and Abigail stayed behind with Sirius. Harry had expected Hermione to stay as well, but she'd insisted on going and was now in a deep conversation with Lupin over the book he and Sirius had gotten Harry for Christmas.

Harry, Abigail, and Sirius had a bright afternoon. Harry had never felt more familiar with anyone. He felt like they were a real family, with Sirius, the handsome and easy-going father, and Abigail, the beautiful and smart sister. They chatted boisterously while they did some easy cooking and cleaning. Harry couldn't help but smile at the lasting grin on Sirius's face and the softeness radiating from Abigail.

Home had never felt so close.

* * *

_'"No! CEDRIC!"'_

Harry flashed up in bed, sweated profusedly. His head whipped around instinctively, his eyes darting around the dark bedroom. To his left, Ron snored.

Harry sighed deeply, slumping back against his headboard. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

He'd had the graveyeard dream _again_. Even if it meant Voldemort was in his head, he'd always take that long, dark corridor over the wide-eyed, stone cold form of Cedric Diggory...

Harry shook his head and stood, grabbing his wand. He slipped quietly from the room, lit his wand, and went down the stairs to the bottom landing, intent on a nice, cold drink. A shiver went up his spine; the house was creepier by night than by day, and that was saying something. He tip-toed quietly into the kitchen, ignoring the light switch and walking over to one of the kitchen's many wooden cupboards.

"Trouble sleeping?"

Harry jumped a foot in the air. He turned quickly towards the kitchen table, wand outstretched at the speaker.

Abigail watched him calmly, taking a sip out of the mug cradled in her hands. Heart-pounding, Harry lowered his wand, glaring pointedly at her.

"What'd you do that for?" he demanded angrily.

"Just a question," she answered, sounding a bit irritable herself.

Harry huffed, grabbed his own cup, and got himself some water from the tap at the sink. He sat across the table from Abigail, his wand still lit and casting a nice blue glow around the room.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Abigail asked.

"Bad dream," he muttered. She pursed her lips. "I could ask you the same thing. Why are you awake?"

She looked away from him, her breathing caught in her throat. Her fingers tapped lightly on the side of her mug. He remained silent while she thought. She sighed and looked back at him, eyes boring deeply into his.

"What was Cedric Diggory like, Harry?"

This was not at all what Harry was expecting. His eyes widened. "Wha-what?"

"Cedric. What was he like?"

He eyed her carefully. "Why?"

"I'd just like to know. Everyone says he was so good-looking and charming and all, but...," she bit her lip, "what was he really like, on the inside?"

Harry was thouroughly shocked. He wondered if she'd heard him talking his sleep, just like Dudley had. But why did she care so much about a boy she barely, and would never, know?

"Well," he started slowly, still caught off-guard, "he was... handsome and everything, like everyone says, but, um, I guess, he was brave definitely, and he was smart, really, really smart, and he was nice. He was a really good wizard, knew loads of magic. He was...," Harry searched for a word, "_good_." Harry shrugged. "Just... really good."

Abigail nodded, fingering her cup absent-mindedly. "Thank you, Harry."

She got up, placing her cup in the sink. He was a bit suprised at her abrupt stop to their short conversation; his cup was still full.

"Hey- hey, Abbie!" he called. She stopped, standing half-way through the door. "Why... why did you want to know about Cedric?"

She hesitated before reaching into her pocket. She came back, placing a folded, familiar-looking piece of paper on the table in front of him. She stared back at him, her eyes dark and seriously.

"Because I dreamed about him."

Then she left, leaving him without another word. His eyes stayed on the spot where she'd walked out before they strayed slowly to the paper on the table in front of him. He moved his cup aside and slowly, his fingers trembling, took the paper and unfolded it. As he unbent the last crease, his breathing stopped and his eyes could've popped out of his head.

On the paper was a perfectly drawn portrait of Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory.

* * *

Abigail mentioned nothing about her and Harry's late night meeting. She greeted him perfectly normal that morning, helping Mrs. Weasley with breakfeast and chatting brightly with Hermione. But the picture, stuck in his jeans pocket, still weighed heavily and confusedly on his mind.

Kreacher, it transpired, had been lurking in the attic. Sirius said he had found him up there, covered in dust, no doubt looking for more relics of the Black family to hide in his cupboard. Though Sirius seemed satisfied with this story, it made Harry uneasy. Kreacher seemed to be in a better mood on his reappearance, his bitter muttering had subsided somewhat and he submitted to orders more docilely than usual, though once or twice Harry caught the house-elf staring at him avidly, but always looking quickly away whenever he saw that Harry had noticed.

Harry did not mention his vague suspicions to Sirius, whose cheerfulness was evaporating fast now that Christmas was over. As the date of their departure back to Hogwarts drew nearer, he became more and more prone to what Mrs. Weasley called 'fits of the sullens', in which he would become taciturn and grumpy, often withdrawing to Buckbeak's room for hours at a time. His gloom seeped through the house, oozing under doorways like some noxious gas, so that all of them became infected by it.

Harry didn't want to leave Sirius again with only Kreacher for company; in fact, for the first time in his life, he was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Going back to school would mean placing himself once again under the tyranny of Dolores Umbridge, who had no doubt managed to force through another dozen decrees in their absence:there was every likelihood that their burden of homework would increase as the exams drew even nearer and Dumbledore remained as remote as ever. In fact, if it hadn't been for the DA, Harry thought he might have begged Sirius to let him leave Hogwarts and remain in Grimmauld Place.

Mr. Weasley returned a few days after Christmas, looking happy and completely cured. Even with Sirius's bad mood seeping in them, the Weasleys looked happier than ever.

They were to return to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus the following day, escorted once again by Tonks and Lupin, both of whom were eating breakfast in the kitchen when Harry, Abigail, Ron and Hermione came down next morning. The adults seemed to have been mid-way through a whispered conversation as Harry opened the door; all of them looked round hastily and fell silent.

After a hurried breakfast, they all seperated, making sure that each person had all of his or her belongings. Harry had an unpleasant constricted sensation in his chest; he did not want to say goodbye to Sirius. He had a bad feeling about this parting; he didn't know when they would next see each other.

"I can't understand why you don't want to wear it, Ronald," Hermione said, starting down the next flight of steps. Harry, Abigail, and Ron followed, Ron wearing his very fuzzy, very odd-looking vest from Mrs. Weasley.

"Because I look like a bloody idiot, that's why," Ron answered in a whine.

"No more than usual, Ron," Hermione said as the four reached the bottom. Hermione, Ron, and Abigail went on, but Harry's attention was caught by a room near the staircase. The door was propped open. Curiousity overcame him and he came in.

The room was large and covered in dark green paper. Everywhere along the walls were names, reaching and stretching like branchs on a tree. The names were connected and Harry saw many of the last names repeated.

"Nasty boy, standing there as if as bold as brass."

Harry looked down, his eyes landing on Kreacher, standing near the door he'd just come through.

"Harry Potter," Kreacher continued, "the boy who stopped the Dark Lord. Friends of mud-bloods and blood-traitors alike. If my poor Mistress ever knew-"

"Kreacher!" Sirius shouted from the stairs. "That's enough of your bile. Away with you!"

"Of course, Master," Kreacher obliged in a falsely-cheery voice, "Kreacher lives to serve the noble House of Black." He creeped out of the room.

"Sorry about that," Sirius apologized, stepping into the room. He fidgeted awkwardly. "He never was very pleasant, even when I was a boy. Not to me anyway."

Harry turned back towards the designed wall. "What? You- you grew up here?"

"This is my parent's house. I offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters for the Order. About the only useful thing I've been able to do." Sirius came furthur in, standing near Harry. "This is the Black Family Tree. My deranged cousin," he said, gesturing to the name _Bellatrix Lestrange _painted on the wallpaper, "I hated the lot of them." Sirius made his way down the room and Harry followed. "My parents with their pure-blood mania." He pointed up at the name _Sirius Black _imprinted on the wall. The picture above it was burned black. "My mother did that after I ran away." He hand dropped heavily. "Charming woman. I was sixteen."

"Where did you go?" Harry asked.

"Your dad's," said Sirius. Harry felt pride swell in him. "I was always welcome at the Potters'. I see him so much in you, Harry," Sirius said emotionally. "You are so very much alike."

"I'm not so sure," Harry denied. Sirius watched him closely. "Sirius, when I was...," he swallowed, "when I saw Mr. Weasley attacked, I wasn't just watching. I was the snake." Sirius's worried gaze intensified. "And, afterwards, in Dumbledore's office, there was a moment I... I wanted to-" Harry couldn't say it out loud; inside he felt dirty.

"This connection between me and Voldemort," he started again, feeling worse, "what if the reason for it is that I am becoming more like him. I just feel _so_ angry, all the time," his voice broke; he both felt and sounded desperate, "and... what if after everything that I've been through... something's gone wrong inside me? What if I'm becoming bad?"

Sirius came up, gripping Harry's arms tightly. "I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry," he said, looking deadly serious, but ruffled at the same time, "_you're not a bad person_. You're a very good person who... bad things have happened to. You understand?"

Harry nodded stiffly.

"And, besides, the- the world isn't split into... good people and Death Eaters," Harry breathed a laugh, "We all have both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."

A light knock sounded on the door. They looked over at Abigail, halfway through the threshold. "Harry, time to go."

"When all this is over," Sirius said, walking Harry over to the door, "we'll be a proper family. All of us," he said, looking from Harry to Abigail and back, "you'll see."

Harry hugged Sirius tightly. He felt Sirius's hand rub his head comfortingly. He stepped back, letting Abigail in. She got up on her tip-toes, throwing her small arms around Sirius's neck. He squeezed her tightly, then pulled her back, holding her shoulders tightly and staring determinedly into her eyes. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself, all right?"

She nodded reassuringly, looking desperately at him.

"Good girl," Sirius said. He planted a kiss on her head before releasing her. She walked out the door, turning to look back at her uncle before walking out past Harry.

Harry knew he didn't imagine the solitary tear dripping down her face.

**Sorry for the day-late update! REALLY long chapter for me, so it took me a bit. **

**Soooooooo, how was the suprise in the middle? Huh, huh, anyone? Push the button and tell me what you think. I just ADORE twists. :)**

**Next Update: 9/10/11**


	18. Chapter 18

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

18) The Giant Escape

Life at Hogwarts after Christmas was nearly normal. But strangely, Harry found himself in Cho's company more often. She seemed slightly happier after what happened a couple weeks earlier.

It was the said girl he was walking with into the castle when he heard his name being called.

"Harry!"

He stopped and turned as they reached the castle's back doorway. Hermione ran up, looking excited, bring Ron and Abigail with her. "Harry! Hagrid's back." The three started off, running in the direction of the grounds.

"Um, sorry," Harry muttered to Cho as he took off behind his best friends.

The four of them raced down the grassy hill as fast as they could without tripping, their robes swirling around their feet like shadows.

They came to a stop before the reached the door, their shoes clicking on the gravel. Their panting stopped as they heard a girlish voice coming from inside Hagrid's cabin.

"I will say this one last time," Umbridge said forcefully, "I'm ordering you to tell me where you've been."

The four snuck over to the window, peering through the triangle glass of Hagrid's window.

"I told you: I've been away for me health," Hagrid insisted.

His lie couldn't have been bigger. Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple and black bruising. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made Harry suspect broken ribs.

"Your health?" Umbridge asked disbelievingly. Harry, Abigail, Hermione, amd Ron ducked quickly as her gaze moved to the window.

"Bit of fresh air, y'know?" Hagrid said.

"Oh, yes," Umbridge commented sarcastically, "as gamekeeper, fresh air must be difficult to come by." Her mouth was turned up in another smile.

"If I were you," she said when Hagrid didn't reply, "I shouldn't get too used to being back; in fact, I mightn't bother unpacking at all." Hagrid looked taken aback.

The four teenagers moved quickly around the house as Umbridge stepped out, looking smug. Immidiately, her face screwed up in disgust. She sniffed the air before bringing a small perfume bottle out of her pocket. She sprayed herself and the house's door before giving a small huff and setting off.

After making sure Umbridge was far enough away, the four stepped out, hurrying over to the cabin's door. Hermione rapped on the door; a few seconds later it opened and showed the giant form of Hagrid.

"I should'a known," he chuckled, "hadn't been home five minutes, I tell ya'..."

He stepped aside, letting Harry, Hermione, and Ron come in. Abigail stepped in, smiling warmly at him.

"Hi, Hagrid."

"Well, look at you!" said Hagrid happily, shutting his door. "Why ain't I suprised you're with Harry?" He said as he crossed the room, settling himself in a big chair by the fire. He grabbed a steak lying on the nearby table and held it in his fist.

Abigail smiled wider and sat down at the table next to the other three. Hagrid poured them some tea from the kettle hanging over the fireplace.

"Where've you been, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, you've been gone for ages!" Ron said.

"What were you doing for the Order?" Hermione asked.

"Hey, hey," said Hagrid, "what makes you four think I been doin' somethin' for the Order?"

They all raised an eyebrow.

Hagrid sighed. "Fine. Now, this is top secret, right?" THey all nodded, watching him carefully.

"Dumbledore sent me to parley with the giants."

"Giants?" Hermione said incrediously.

"Shh..." Hagrid put a finger to his lips.

"You found them?" Hermione asked in a quieter voice.

"Well, they're no' that hard to fin', to be perfec'ly 'onest," Hagrid admitted, "they're big, see. Tried to convince them to join th' cause, bu' I wasn't the only one that was tryin' to win 'em over."

"Death Eaters," Ron said.

"Yes," Hagrid confirmed, "tryin' to persuade them to join You-Know-Who,"

"And, did they?" Harry asked.

"I gave 'em Dumbledore's message; spose' some of 'em remember he was friendly to 'em, I suppose..." Hagrid trailed off with a sigh. He looked over at Fang as the dog whimpered. Fang's gaze was trained on the steak still in Hagrid's hand.

"And, they did this to you?" Abigail asked, drawing Hagrid's attention back.

"Not exac'ly, no," said Hagrid, placing the steak to his eye. Fang started to bark loudly.

"Go on, you have it then!" Hagrid said, throwing the steak to the dog. "Dozy dog."

They all watched Fang disgustedly. The wind suddenly picked up, moving through the small cottage. Harry looked away from Fang, feeling the heavy winds swirl through the cottage. Hagrid did the same, looking grim.

Harry, Abigail, Hermione, and Ron stood, following Hagrid to the back door. They all looked out, observing the rapidly changing weather.

"It's changin' out there," Hagrid said as the sky darkened, "jus' like last time. There's a storm comin', Harry, and we'd all bes' be ready when she does."

**MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN**

MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT'

FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

_The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban._

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

'We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped,'said Fudge last night.'Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.'

"Dumbledore warned Fudge this could happen," Hermione said furiously as the four walked in the Great Hall the next morning, "he's going to get us all killed just 'cause he can't face the truth."

"Harry."

The four stopped, turning around. Seamus Finnigan stood from his place at the table.

"I... uh... I wanted to apologize," Seamus said sincerly. "I know with everything me mam is saying in the Prophet is all very druddle. So, what I'm really trying to say is that... I believe you."

**NEXT ONE HAS DANGER :D **

**Being a writer gives you the chance to be evil. Remember to review!**

**Next Update: 9/17/11**


	19. Chapter 19

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

19) Discovery

Harry pulled the Room of Requirement's door open. It slid easily and silently over the floor. The door shut quietly and disapeared after he stepped in. He stopped where he was, eyes stuck on the scene before him.

Two silloettes stood by Mad-Eye's old Foe Glass. One was taller and more broadly built; the other was short and femininly-styled. They both had their backs turned to Harry, but Harry knew the short dark hair the man had, knew the long blonde hair that hung in a ponytail down the woman's back. Both heads were tilted up, looking at the picture of the original Order of the Phoenix taped to the mirror. Harry could hear their murmuring voices, but he couldn't make out the words.

He felt uncomfortable interrupting, but he knew he had to: practice started in ten minutes. He walked towards them, trying not to fidget.

"Abigail?" Harry asked. "Neville?"

The former turned, but the latter stayed in place.

"Harry," Abigail achnolodged, giving him a smile. Harry could sense the falseness behind it.

All day, Abigail had been acting strangely. After the announcement in the paper, he'd barely seen her at all; in fact, to his suprise, she'd been with Neville all day. From breakfeast to classes to lunch, she been by his side, walking and chatting with him. Harry couldn't help but notice that Neville had seemed different too, paler and more reluctant to communicate with anyone.

"I... uh... we were just getting ready," said Abigail quickly, "for practice and everything."

Harry gave a nod, swallowing a lump in his throat. His eyes passed from Abigail to Neville.

"I'll just... go over there," Abigail said shiftily, poining over her shoulder. She moved away from the glass, walking alone towards the other side of the room. Harry looked back at Neville and slowly took Abigail's spot. The two stood awkwardly for a moment, both gazing up at the picture. Harry's sight landed on a couple, a man with Neville's face and hair, and a woman with Neville's smile. They both grinned at the boys, looking incredibly happy.

"Fourteen years ago," said Neville finally, looking sad, "a Death Eater named Bellatrix Lestrange used the Cruciatus Curse on my parents. She torchured them for information, but they never gave in." Neville looked at Harry. "I'm quite proud to be their son... but, I'm not sure if I'm ready for everyone to know just yet." He looked back at the picture.

Harry took a deep breath. "We're going to make them proud, Neville. That's a promise."

Both boys turned from the Foe Glass as the sound of the door shutting reached their ears. Ginny Weasley walked in, accompanied by Luna Loovegood. Shortly after, the Patil twins followed, and then the rest of the army started to file in.

Harry patted Neville's shoulder in a brotherly way before walking off, heading into the crowd of students. He searched the group before spotting a familiar face talking to Fred Weasley. Abigail, Harry noticed, seemed completely back to normal as the two talked, smiling and laughing with Fred about he and George's newest joke merchandise.

_Later, then, _Harry thought to himself as Hermione and Ron entered. Finally, the whole class was present.

Harry walked up to the front of the room. The newly recruited Seamus grinned at Harry as he passed and Harry gave a nod back. He felt Abigail by his side, but said nothing, joining Ron and Hermione. The crowd settled, waiting for Harry to speak.

"All right then, everyone," Harry started, fingering his wand casually. "So tonight, I thought we'd skip the normal practices and move on to something more... practical."

The crowd looked confused, murmuring to their neighbors, trying to guess what Harry might have meant. Hermione, however, grinned, obviously knowing of Harry's plan.

"I think it's time we tried Patronuses."

The room burst into applause, Fred and George cheering loudly near the back. Harry grinned at their obvious enthusiasm. Without being told, the students started to spread out, chatting vigorously and excitedly. Harry positioned himself by the fire.

"All right, so, to cast a Patronus, you need a happy memory. Make it powerful, the happiest you can remember. Allow it to fill you up. Then, just say the enchantment."

"Now, a full body Patronus is the most difficult to produce, but shield forms can also be equally useful against a variety of opponents. Just remember, your Patronus can only protect you for as long as you stay focused, so focus."

Harry readied his wand. His mind flashed to Umbridge and an insane pleasure filled him, powered by the rage and hate he had for the mad woman.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

Blue light burst from his wand tip and gathered, forming the stag Prongs. The students ooohhed and aaaawed. After a few moments, Harry released his hold, causing the stag to disapear.

"All right, everyone give it a go, but don't be disapointed if you don't get it the first time. It's not as simple as it looks." Harry instructed.

The students started immidiately. The room was filled with shouts and blazes of light. Harry walked around, feeding them encouragement and motivation. No one had yet succeeded in forming an animal.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

Harry turned quickly at the loud yell. He was met with the sight of a fully-grown ocelot, sitting contentedly on the floor. It's head was cocked as it stared back at Harry, it's tail twitching calmly. The other students had quieted, watching the two.

Then, the Patronus got up, walking over to it's caster. It started to purr, rubbing itself against the person's leg.

Abigail watched it with warmed eyes and a smile. She looked over at Harry and he knew that this one was real.

"Well done, Abbie," Harry congradulated. Some of the others clapped before returning to their own spells. The ocelot gave Abigail one last look before vanishing from the room.

After Abigail's success, the other members seemed to get it as well. Hermione followed after a few more tries, laughing delightedly at the otter zooming around her.

"Fantastic, Ginny!" Harry called as he passed by her and her newly formed horse Patronus.

"Think of the happiest thing you can," Harry encouraged as he passed by Neville and Abigail practicing.

"Expecto Patronum," Neville said. His wand gave out a blue shield form, but it quickly disapeared. His shoulders slumped. "I'm trying," he told Harry, sounding desperate.

"I know," Harry reassured, going on. "This is really advanced stuff, guys, you're doing so well," Harry told everyone. He smiled as he passed Ron, who had just conjured a large dog Patronus, and stopped near Luna, who had just created a rabbit from her wand.

"Look at you."

Harry looked over at Abigail, walking over with arms crossed and an impressed smile on her face.

"I mean, look at this," she said, sparing the others a glance, "you've turned a bunch of magic misfits into wizards." She smiled at him again.

Harry grinned gratefully.

Suddenly, a loud boom sounded throughout the room. The glass chandelier shook and the lights flickered. All spells stopped, everyone looking around confusedly. In sync, everyone started to gather by the mirrors that hid the door to the room, Harry and Abigail in front, with the small Nigel beside them.

As everyone watched, every mirror started to crack. With every boom, the cracks got larger and larger before finally breaking, falling in large pieces from their frames, revealing the brick wall behind them. In it was a small, upside-down triangular hole. The students' breaths became labored and shaky; they all raised their wands defensively.

Slowly, Harry, Abigail, and Nigel stepped forward; Abigail was the only one of the three who had her wand out. Nigel stepped forward, but Abigail grabbed his wrist, letting Harry pass. Abigail brought Nigel closer in a protective manner as Harry reached the wall. Swallowing, he bent over, looking through it.

"I'll make short work of this," Umbridge said, pointed her wand towards the brick wall. Harry quickly started to backtrack.

"_Bombarda maxima_," the girlish voice commanded.

The wall exploded in a flash of debris and dust. Abigail bent over, covering Nigel from the blow. Harry jumped near them, leaning over Abigail like she was to Nigel. Luckily, they were far enough away that the sharp and heavy debris did not touch them. As the dust cleared, they came up, Abigail's arms wrapped around Nigel's shoulders like a hug.

Outside, Umbridge lowered her wand. She was flanked by Filch and the many Slytherins that made up the Inquisitorial Squad: Umbridge's spies.

Harry's heart sank even lower when Malfoy appeared, dragging Cho over by her shoulders where they could all see her. Her head hung dejectedly.

"Get them!"

"I've been watching them for weeks, and see! Dumbledore's Army," Umbridge exclamed to Fudge as his eyes scanned down the list of names on the sheet labeled _'Dumbledore's Army'_. "Proof of what I've been telling you right from the beginning, Cornelius!"

Percy Weasley joined the Minister, Umbridge, Kingsley, Dawlish, and Dumbledore in Dumbledore's office, dragging Harry and Cho in by their sweaters. Harry was breathing heavy, his dread growing more and more each second. He couldn't understand why Dumbledore sat there, looking completely calm and neutral, when Umbridge was giving Fudge the evidence that proved Fudge's suspisions.

"All your murmuring about You-Know-Who never fooled us for a minute!" Umbridge continued, speaking to Dumbledore. "We saw you lies for what they were, a smokescreen for your bit to seize control of the Ministry!"

"Naturally," Dumbledore responded, almost sarcastically.

"No, Professor!" Harry exclaimed. "He had nothing to do with it! It was me!" He tried to tell the Ministry officials.

"Most noble of you Harry, to sooth me, but as it's been pointed out, the parchment clearly says _'Dumbledore's Army'_, not_ 'Potter's'_." Dumbledore said. "I instructed Harry to form this organization, and I, and I alone, am responsible for it's activities."

"Dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet," Fudge ordered, "If we hurry, we should still make the morning addition. Dawlish, Shacklebolt, you will escort Dumbledore to Azkaban to await trial for conspiracy." Fudge, Umbridge, and Dawlish started towards the headmaster, but Kingsley stayed behind. Harry's eyes flicked to the Order member for a moment before returning to Dumbledore.

"Ahhh, you see," Dumbledore said in a falsely cheery voice, standing from his chair, "I thought we might hit this little snag." He moved behind his desk. "You seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to... what was the phrase? Come quietly? Well I can tell you this," he said to Umbridge and Fudge's furious faces, "I have no intention of going to Azkaban."

"Enough of this," Umbridge said in a loud whisper.

Dumbledore's blue eyes flicked to Harry's in the split second between Umbridge's words and the old man winked.

"Take him!"

Suddenly, Fawkes appeared, flying towards the front of the office with a loud cry. As soon as he reached Dumbledore, the headmaster snapped his hands up. The officials all fell backwards as Dumbledore vanished in a flash of fire.

Kingsley gave a loud, relieved huff as all the officials regained their composure. He looked over at Fudge, who was now standing next to him.

"Well, you may not like him Minister, but you can't deny, Dumbledore has got _style_."

**I always love this line. :)**

**While I wrote this chapter, I finally realized how much has happened. The story is over halfway over and the next one will be starting soon. It's so strange to me. But, I'm really excited to start on the next installment once this one has ended. Remember to review! :)**

**Next Update: 9/14/11**


	20. Chapter 20

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

20) A Giant Problem

The next day, Harry, Abigail, Hermione, and Ron watched defeatedly with other students as Filch climbed up his ladder, placing yet another decree on the high wall. They remained silent as thunder rumbled, as if mourning their loss.

**PROCLAIMATION**

Educational Decree No. 119

Dolores Jane Umbridge

has replaced

Albus Dumbledore

as Head of

Hogwarts School of

Witchcraft &

Wizardry

M

The notice had gone up, but it did not explain how every single person within the castle seemed to know that Dumbledore had overcome two Aurors, the High Inquisitor, the Minister for Magic and his Junior Assistant to escape. No matter where Harry went within the castle, the sole topic of conversation was Dumbledore's flight, and though some of the details may have gone awry in the retelling (Harry overheard one second-year girl assuring another that Fudge was now lying in St. Mungo's with a pumpkin for a head) it was surprising how accurate the rest of their information was. Everybody knew, for instance, that Harry and Cho were the only students to have witnessed the scene in Dumbledore's office. Harry found himself besieged with requests to give a first-hand account.

All of the students in Dumbledore's Army were sentenced to heavy detentions, carefully overlooked every night by Umbridge, who sat in the Headmaster's chair in the Great Hall, sipping tea and looking extemely happy.

Cho was the only student not exposed to the torchures because she'd been the one who told about the Army's meetings. As a result, the other students ignored her, giving her cold looks and not speaking to her. The only non-hostile sign she recieved the first night was a sympathetic, but sad look from Abigail while Harry passed her without looking at her.

She'd done her part.

* * *

"You did everything you could." Ron insisted. "No one could win against that old hag."

The day was foggy at Hogwarts as Harry, Abigail, Hermione, and Ron walked down the old stone bridge between Hogwarts and it's grounds.

"Even Dumbledore didn't see this coming," Hermione complied.

"Harry, if it's anyone's fault, it's ours," Abigail spoke up.

"Yeah, we talked you into it," Ron said.

"Yeah, but I agreed," Harry said to them. He slumped against the side of the bridge. "I tried _so_ hard to help, and all it's done is makes things worse.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore," he said. He turned from his friends, facing the darkened scenery. "Because I don't want to play anymore, all it does is make you care too much... and the more you care, the more you have to lose. Maybe it's just better to..."

"To what?" Hermione asked seriously.

Harry turned back towards them. "To go it alone."

Harry looked down at the ground. Abigail shook her head slowly once.

"Harry-" she started.

"Psst!"

The four looked up, staring at the grounds end of the bridge. Hagrid stepped most of the way back behind the bridge's column, trying to stay out of sight in case there were any unwanted visitors. He looked back at them and made a small but uncoordinated beckoning with his arm.

"Hagrid?"

* * *

"Any idea where he's taking us?" Ron asked as he nearly tripped over another large tree root as the four followed Hagrid through the Forbidden Forest.

"Hagrid, why can't you just tell us?" Harry asked.

Hagrid didn't answer as the sound of neighing filled their ears. They heard rapid footsteps and Hagrid put his hand up, signalling for the four to stop. Between two trees, they watched centaurs gallop wildly past.

"I n'ver seen the cent'urs so wrilled up," Hagrid exclaimed in a low voice. "They're dangerous at th' best of tahmes. If th' Ministry restricts their territory much more, they're gonna haf' a full uprisin' on their hans."

"Hagrid, what's going on?" Hermione demended, sounding nervous.

"I'm sorry to be so mysterious, you four. I- I wouldn't be botherin' you at all wit' it, but... with Dumbledore gon'...I'll... likely be gettin' the sack any day now." His voice was choked up, as if he'd burst into tears at any second. "I- I jus' couldn't leave withou' telling someon' abou' him."

The four students eyes widened and they involuntarily shifted back. Loud cracking started to fill the quiet place, like autum leaves being raked, but ten times louder. They all looked slowly up as something rose up from the ground, something they had not seen before.

"Grawpy," Hagrid called, "down here, you grea' buffoon."

The giant thing turned, looking down at them with dark eyes the size of Harry's head. The giant had short, scruffy black hair and a squashed nose. His skin was pale from being stuck in the dark for who-knows-how-long and he wore messily-sown garmets. His height ranged about sixteen to eighteen feet.

A bird suddenly flew around the giant's head and his eyes lit up, following it delightedly. It flew in the foursome's general direction and the giant took a step forward, eyes locked on the white bird. The four quickly ducked as the giant's hands clapped together where their heads had just been, crushing the bird between it's palms.

"Aw, Grampy," Hagrid said in a soft, but condesending tone. "Brough' you som' company."

The four striaghtened up, watching the giant with eyes like dollar coins.

The giant finally noticed the four, the bird in his hand forgotten. A soft, sweet smile crossed the creature's face.

Suddenly, the giant started towards them, pushing Hagrid over in his attempt to reach them. The four stumbled quickly backwards, their faces contorted in fear. Harry felt Abigail's hands clenched tightly around his upper arm, as if for dear life, pulling him back.

The four stopped as the giant did, who looked slightly crestfallen. The giant looked back, frowning at the rope around his waist that bound him to a very thick tree.

"I couldn' jus' leave him because... because he's my brother." Hagrid said, getting up off the ground.

"Blimey," Ron whispered loudly in the dark forest.

"Well, haf' brother really," Hagrid corrected.

The four stumbled back again as Grawp bend down, examining them closely.

"He's completely harmless, jus' like I said," Hagrid told them as he joined them. "Littl' high-spirited is all'."

Out of nowhere, the giant's hand shot out, wrapping around Hermione's waist and pulling her off the ground near his face. Her scream echoed loudly through the trees.

"Grawpy, that is not polite!" Hagrid shouted up.

"Hagrid, _do something_!" Ron cried at the gamekeeper.

Harry felt Abigail's hands tighten on his arm. She ducked halfway behind him, nearly jerking him back again; her breathing was shaky as she watched Grawp examine Hermione more closely.

"We talked abou' this! You do not grab, do you?" Hagrid said to his brother. "Tha's your new frien'."

Ron reached behind Harry, grabbing a thick tree branch off the ground. He ran up, hitting the giant's knee with it. The stick emitted a loud crack and broke in half.

The giant looked down, watching Ron. He nudged him with his foot and Ron fell onto his back, getting up next to Harry and Abigail.

_"Grawp!"_

Everyone's eyes darted to Hermione, Her finger pointed in his face a few inches away. Her face was a cross between forced sternness and terrified wariness.

"Put. Me. Down." Hermione said, breathing deeply. "Now."

Everyone watched her amazedly, the giant frozen in half-shock. Then, slowly and carefully, the giant bent down, placing Hermione back on the ground next to the others. She backed up next to them.

Harry felt blood rush back into his arm as Abigail's grip finally losened. She came up next to Hermione, both looking interested through their innitial fear.

The giant looked slightly ashamed. He straightened up, stepping back towards his tree.

"You all right?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Fine," Hermione said, rubbing her arm awkwardly, "just needs a firm hand is all." Her gaze went back to Grawp, looking caring in a sort of way.

"I think you've got an admirer," Harry said. The other three looked away from Harry and back at Grawp.

They watched Grawp riffle through a pile of junk at the base of the tree next to the one he was tied to.

"You just stay away from her, all right?" Ron spoke up, trying to sound brave.

The giant faced them again, holding the handlebars of an old bicycle in his hands. He flicked the bell on it and it jingled merrily. He stepped forward again, holding it out in Hermione's direction.

She reached for it slowly, pulling it out of his hand. He took half a step back, watching her thoughtfully. With a glance at the others, she looked back at Grawp, and with her left hand flicked the bell.

Grawp smiled, looking extremely happy. Hermione smiled back. Even Abigail had a small smile on her face. Ron just sulked.

"He gets his own food an' all," said Hagrid as the giant plopped down onto the ground, playing with the recovered handle, "it's company he'll be needin' when I'm gon'. You will look af'er him, won't you? I'm th' only fam'ly he's got."

Harry looked at Hagrid's face and slowly, but surely, nodded.

* * *

_Harry stood in front of the mirror, looking greedily in at his parents. They smiled down at him with kind-hearted faces._

_Suddenly, Snape appeared, placing himself between Lily and James Potter. He watched the eleven-year-old with disgust._

"Feeling sentimental?"

Harry watched Snape angrily as the teached retreated from his mind. "That's private," he choked out between heavy breaths.

"Not to me," said Snape, his face reflecting darkly in the dimly lit dungeon. "And not to the Dark Lord if you don't improve." Snape suddenly strode forward, standing right in front of Harry. "Every memory he has access to is a weapon he can use against you; you wouldn't last two seconds if he invades your mind." A sneer crossed the Potions master's face. "You're just like your father." Snape took a few steps back. "Lazy! Arrogant!"

Harry pushed himself out of the small chair with hatred in his eyes. "Don't say a word against my father!"

"Weak!" Snape said.

"I'm not weak!" Harry shouted.

"Then prove it!" Snape matched. "Control your emotions! Discipline your mind!"

Harry silenced, watching his teacher loathingly.

Snape's wand flashed out, pointing towards Harry._ "Legillimens!"_

Harry gasped as he went back into his memories.

_The maze seemed to stretch on forever, thick hedges making the maze seem darker._

_Grawp's hand clashed above his head, snatching the bird from thin air._

_Sirius smiled with him as he held the thirteen-year-old boy's face in his rugged hands._

_Dumbledore's hands snapped up and he disapeared in a flash of fire._

_Cho kissed him deeply under the mistletoe._

_Dream Voldemort stared at him in the train station, twisting his neck awkwardly._

_Mr. Weasley cried out as the snake attacked him, drawing more blood._

_Lily and James stood in front of the fountain, smiling at him in the autumn weather._

_Sirius's face screamed loudly from the 'Wanted' ad in the _Prophet_._

_The door reflected eerily at the end of the corridor._

_Voldemort's hand reached out, his voice whispering, "Harry..."_

_Silvery mist swirled in the glass orb in front of him._

_"Sirius," Harry said happily, hugging his godfather in the main hall of Grimmauld Place. _

"I may vomit," Snape's voice echoed.

Harry bent over as he came out of the spell, gasping for air. "Stop it!" He almost pleaded.

"Is this what you call control?" Snape asked almost smugly.

"We've been at it for hours!" Harry cried. He walked around Snape, heading for the dungeon door. "If I could just rest!"

"The Dark Lord isn't resting," Snape argued, striding towards the boy. Harry pushed up against the table behind him, glaring at the teacher. Snape leant back, leering at Harry. "You and Black are two of a kind: sentimental children, forever whinning about how bitterly unfair your lives have been. Well, this may have escaped your notice, but life isn't fair. Your blessed father knew that, in fact he frequently sought it!"

"My father was a great man!"

"Your father was a swine!" Snape grabbed Harry's shirt, pushing him back towards the small chair. Harry's wand came out just as Snape's did.

_"Legillimens!" _Snape said loudly.

_"Protego!" _Harry defended.

_The teenage Snape looked up from his spot against the tree as another boy strode up, smiling widely. Three other boys trailed behind him, but his gaze was locked on the dark-haired boy behind his glasses._

_"Snape!" The young James Potter called._

_"Expelliarmus!" James said lazily as Snape scrambled up, wand in hand. Snape's wand flew out of his grasp and into the grass a few feet away._

_"Nice one, James!" Sirius Black congradulated with a grin._

"Dad...," Harry said shocked as the group passed by his projection.

_"Snivellus! Snivellus!" The small crowd chanted as Snape rose into the air, hanging upside down._

_"Right, who wants to see me take off Snivelly's trousers?" James smirked as the crowd cheered._

"Enough!"

Harry was pushed out of Snape's mind. He fell back into his chair, feeling numb at what he had just seen. He stood shakily, watching his teacher carefully.

"Enough," Snape hissed again, leaning against the table nearest him.

He straightened, walking swiftly towards Harry. He grabbed the front of Harry's shirt menacingly, glaring darkly down at the suprised boy.

"Your lessons are at an end," whispered Snape.

"I-" Harry started.

"Get. Out."

* * *

Harry ran out of the Great Hall having just exited the dungeon stairway. He stood in an outdoor hallway, the same one, in fact, that he'd watched Professor Trelawney's teaching career come to an end. He leaned against the wall, the numbing feeling remaining in his stomach.

He was suddenly aware of the sound of sobbing. He looked up, turning and staring down at the end of the hallway. A boy sat on a bench by a carved wall. Fred Weasley crouched down next to him while George sat beside him, nearly blocking Harry's view of the young student.

"What's your name?" Fred asked

"Michael," the small boy said.

"Your hand's gonna be fine, Michael," George said.

Harry started towards them, his mouth feeling dry.

"Yeah, it's not as bad as it seems," Fred complied. "See, it's fading already," he said as the boy stared to cry again. "You can hardly see ours anymore. And the pain stops after a while."

"Yeah," George said to Michael as Harry came to a stop, finally in full view of the group.

_"Hem hem."_

They all looked up at Umbridge, standing cheerfully in the doorway of the stone hall. Harry walked forward as Fred and George stood. He stoped near Nigel, Fred taking his right flank and George his left, all watching the woman with loathing.

"As I told you once before, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said, "naughty children deserve to be punished." She smiled and turned, walking away.

"You know, George," Fred said to his twin with a small grin, "I've always felt our futures lay outside the world of academic achievement."

"Fred, I've been thinking exactly the same thing."

**Sorry for the week late update. Had a small family vacation last weekend. I promise to try to do better. Remember to click the button!**

**Next Update: 10/8/11**


	21. Chapter 21

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

21) Escape

SILENCE

O.W.L.s IN PROGRESS

O.W.L. EXAMINATIONS- Year 5

Use Magical Regulation 572 Azul Marino ink ONLY

EXAM: Theory of Charms

Exam commenses: 16:00

Exam finishes: 18:00

The soft scratching of quills and the heavy _swoosh _of the giant, swinging clock were the only sounds filling the room as the Hogwarts fifth years took their Charms O.W.L. The sound of Hermione's quill was fast and sharp, while others went at a moderate speed, taking their time in copying their theorys to their parchment. Even Abigail went at a normal pace, her quill making soft _scritchs _on her paper. Ron was slow, and Harry could only guess that he had either forgotten what they had leaned or, more likely, he did not know as much as he tried to let on.

Harry was only half there. He had written some answers to varied questions, but his gaze kept moving, flickering to the object of his loathing standing in the front of the room, watching them quietly with a small smile on her face.

At this moment, she specifically caught his eye and something passed between them: perhaps the same sense of hatred and annoyance, and equal amount of irritation to the other.

Harry had just turned back to his test when the sound of thunder hit his ears, filling the room in a low rumble. A few students, including Harry, and Umbridge looked up in a suprised manner, turning their heads towards the Great Hall's doors. Even Umbridge looked ruffled; there had been no hide or hair of any storm. In fact, the day was the nicest one they had had in weeks.

A second rumble rang through the room. Now everyone had heard, looking up from their theorys to stare oddly back at the doors.

Another boom echoed just as everyone had returned to their writing. The whipers began, floating all throughout the Great Hall in quick succession. Everyone's quills had stopped.

Umbridge, looking irritable and confused, started down one of the long aisles of desks. Her heels clicked deeply against the stone floor as she walked. Another thundering boom was heard when she was halfway across the room. She sped up her pace.

Everyone watched her interestedly as she flung open the doors, facing the darkness of the secluded front hallway. She stepped out carefully, looking curiously into the darkness.

Then, a small ball of golden light flew in, making sizzling and popping noises as it came closer towards Umbridge's face. It circled in front of her face a few times before flying around her, flying into the Great Hall. It exploded over a few of the Gryffindors heads, setting off beautiful blue fireworks. The whispering at ceased as everyone turned once more to watch Umbridge at the doors.

Warily, the woman took a few more steps out the door. She bent over slightly and turned her head to look down the hallway, trying to peer up the giant marble staircase.

"YEAH!"

Two familiar redheaded boys zoomed down the staircase on their brooms. They flew over Umbridge's head and into the Great Hall, yelling with joy. All the students started to scream and cheer. Fred and George Weasley threw up more fireworks, lighting up the dim Great Hall. Test papers flew up in the air, abondoned by their owners.

Golden balls of light mirroring the first flew everywhere. Fireworks exploded in the sky in bright and beautiful colors, in blues and reds and greens of all kinds. Everyone had stood up from their desks as the colors flew around them. Harry, Abigail, Hermione, and Ron drew together, marvelling at the amazing light show. One ball of light flew around Abigail's head, teasing some of the shorter hair that had come lose from her waist-long braid and she giggled, making the others grin wider.

Fred and George flew over their heads, slapping a high-five in the smoke-filled air. The students had seperating, forming two groups on either side of the Great Hall. Umbridge walked down the paper-strewn aisle, looking in horror at the chuckling Weasley boys. She ducked with a gasp as another fireball flew over her head. Filch came rushing in as the chaos continued, holding a mop and looking disgusted. He hurry past Umbridge, who was looking incredilous, to Harry's delight.

"Ready when you are!" George shouted to Fred. He held up a short, but thick piece of wood. The top burned orange in a small dome. Fred laughed and flew away. George threw up the wood and quickly followed. The wooden firework exploded in the air, sending off the most sparks yet. They burned all colors, some that Harry couldn't even have imagined.

Then, the fire moved, coming together effortlessly to form the angry face of a dragon. It glowered down at Umbridge, who started to back away, looking terrified. The dragon's large mouth opened and started its decent towards the ground, letting out a large growl on the way. Umbridge let out a shriek and started to run towards the Great Hall's doors. The dragon followed, thick smoke bellowing out of it's nostrils like chimneys.

The dragon finally caught up to her as she reached the doors. With a loud groan, its fiery jaws came down on her before the dragon exploded in a mosaic of light and sound. Fireworks flew out and hit the walls, shattering all the decrees and proclaimations nailed to them. The noise was deafening; the fireworks sizzling out, the glass crashing into pieces on the ground. The offical documents were torn and ripped, practically blown apart as they floated to the ground. Finally, the pentagon-shaped frames came falling down, splintering into many wooden pieces.

Umbridge let out another scream as the Weasley boys flew out over her head. The doors to the stone bridge Harry had walked just nights ago flew open, releasing the twins into the clear, boy sky. Screaming with delight, the fifth years followed, nearly trampling each other in their haste to get out the door and onto the grounds. Other students joined them on their way out, having heard the noise throughout the castle. They all crowded outside, clapping and yelling happily. Even Harry joined in, laughing and enjoying himself like he never had that year.

As Fred and George flew away, they released one more bout of fireworks. The fireworks exploded and moved together, forming a giant, sparkling 'W' into the sky. The section of blue sky filled with smoke. The twins flew off, away from the castle and away from Umbridge.

Suddenly, the ear-popping noise around him seemed to numb. His vision blurred slightly as he tried to focus, feeling a sudden fear creep up on him. His breathing got heavier. He swayed, his mind unfocusing. He felt himself falling, felt himself hit the hard stone beneath him.

He saw Abigail's head whip around, grinning wildly at him, before his vision blurred, and another scene filled his eyes.

Once again he was in the cathedral-sized room full of shelves and glass spheres ... his heart was beating very fast now... he stood by row ninety-seven, watching the black-haired man next to it. Sirius was held upright, looking uncomfortably around. The room was dark, just as it had always been, glowing only by the light of the glass orbs shimmering in it... thousands and thousands of swirling mists...

His vision shied away for one moment and Harry saw Abigail's face, her grin fading into an expression of concern, before his vision returned to the cold, dark room from his dreams.

"I need that propechy," a cold voice spoke.

The image flashed, the same small, silver orb that Harry had seen in his dreams, in Snape's office, every time he closed his eyes...

"You'll have to kill me," Sirius whispered defiantly, his voice loud in the unnaturally quiet room.

Harry swallowed, but the lump in his throat remained.

"Oh, I will, but first you will fetch it for me."

And then, to Harry's utter terror, _he _appeared, his sneering, snakelike face with those burning red eyes, the same ones that haunted Harry's memories.

Voldemort moved swiftly, almost as if he were floating. The end of his robes billowed like smoke. He moved from behind his captive, coming around to look Sirius in the eyes.

_"Crucio!"_

Sirius choked, trying to hold back a scream. He gasped in pain, his eyes unfocusing slightly. His body shuddered, writing and tightening as curse enveloped him.

More images flashed: the shelve with the plaque that said "Ninety-seven", the silvery sphere that never seemed to leave his mind, the Minister and Lucius Malfoy standing in the dark hallway...

The door. The door that had haunted his dreams every night since the beginning of the summer. The door that he had been trying to open every night, trying to see what was concealed in it, because it was so very important...

The images faded and he was back at Hogwarts, back in the middle of the screaming crowd that he had never left. His vision sharpened again as Abigail came into view. She crouched down in front of him, her braid rising and bouncing off her back as she swiftly descended down to his level. She watched him with a worried look in her eyes as his breathing became rapid and uneven.

He swallowed several times before spitting out one word.

"Sirius."

* * *

"Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked as the four jumped quickly onto a moving staircase.

"I saw it!" Harry said urgently, sparing her a glance. "It's just like with Mr. Weasley! It's the same door I've been dreaming about for months, only I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before!" The four moved as the stairs stopped, running up stairs that were attached to the wall.

"Sirius said Voldemort was after something, something he didn't have the last time, and it's in the Department of Mysteries!"

"Harry, please just listen!" Hermione gasped out as they ran onto another staircase. Harry paused, breathing heavily as the flight started to move. His hand clutched the railing like a lifeline, his knuckles turning white.

"What if Voldemort meant for you to see this?" Hermione asked seriously. "What if he's only hurting Sirius because he's trying to get to you?"

"Well, what if he is?" Harry spat out. "I'm supposed to just let him die? Hermione, he's the only family I've got left."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other as the staircase started to slow. They both looked back, peering at Abigail's face. Her face was white and she swallowed heavily. Harry guessed he was looking just like the same at that moment.

The two looked back. "What do we do?" Ron asked as the flight stopped moving.

Harry started to run again, the other three following him as they raced towards Gryffindor Tower.

"We'll have to use the Floo Network," Harry said.

"But Umbridge has the chimneys under survillence," Abigail responded as the Fat Lady's painting came into view.

"Not all of them!"

* * *

_"Alohamora," _Harry said in a low voice.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts office door unlocked and Harry pushed it open. The sight of the frilly and pink office made his insides twist with disgust. The other three followed him inside and Ron shut the door carefully behind them. The cats on the wall started to meow loudly, as if calling for their owner.

Harry crouched by the doilied fireplace and took some Floo Powder from the hot pink bucket hanging on a hook in the fireplace's side. He threw it in and the familiar green fire sprang up.

"Alert the Order if you can," Harry said to the others as they joined him.

"Are you mental? We're going with you!" Ron argued.

"It's too dangerous!"

"He's my uncle! I'm not going to sit around and wait! I'm coming!" Abigail retorted angrily.

"No! It's _too_ dangerous!" Harry repeated exasperatedly.

"When are you going to get it into your head?" Hermione asked, dropping down beside him to stare him in the eye. "We're in this together!"

"That. You. Are."

And all four students turned to face the red-faced Umbridge standing in the doorway.

* * *

"Caught this one trying to help the Weasley girl!" Malfoy sneered as he drug Neville Longbottom into the office. Harry watched as Neville was put with the others, consisting of Abigail, Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Ginny, who were all being restrained by members of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

Harry's heart had sunk; they had been caught. Any other time, it may not have mattered as much, but it was gravely important and they had failed. Sirius was being torchured, maybe even killed, and here Harry sat, in this hard-backed wooden chair in Umbridge's office with her sneering at him, surrounded by the others who had been taken for being close aliases to him, and they could do nothing. _Nothing._ And that was simply the worst part.

Harry looked back as Umbridge bent over, staring him directly in the eyes, looking condesending. She smiled knowingly.

"You were going to Dumbledore, weren't you?" She asked in a falsely-sweet tone.

"No," Harry replied after swallowing.

His head jerked sharply to the side and Hermione gasped. He turned his head back to face Umbridge, cheek stinging where she had harshly slapped him. Her smile was gone; the frown on her face was deep and accusatory.

"You sent for me, Headmistress?" A deep voice came from the doorway.

Harry looked over as Umbridge straightened, composing herself. Snape stood in the doorway, as dark and menacing as ever.

"Snape, yes," Umbridge achnoledged, now looking smug, "the time has come for answers, whether he wants to give them to me or not! Have you brought the Veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores interrogating students, the last of it on Miss Chang," Snape replied monotonously.

Something seemed to spark in Harry at those words, but he ignored it. How could he have been so stupid? There had been an Order member here all along. Harry looked at Snape, wishing that he could say something, wishing he could somehow communicate the danger of what was happening, of what was at stake at this very moment...

Harry looked back at the others, watching them silently. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but for Snape or the Veritaserum, he did not know. Ron watched her, seemingly piecing together the clues. Abigail still looked tense, watching Snape carefully from the arms of her restrainer. She flicked a glance at Harry's face, swallowed gently, and looked back at the scene going on between Snape and Umbridge. Harry did the same, ignoring Neville, Ginny, and Luna's emotions.

"Unless you wish to poison him," Snape continued, "and I assure you, I would have the greatest sympathy if you did, I cannot help you." Harry glared at him briefly, but Snape did not see as he was watching Umbridge's face slowly fade back into an impatient, irritated gaze.

As Snape turned to leave, Harry made his decision. He only had one shot; if he didn't say something now, he would loose the last chance of letting the Order know.

"He's got Padfoot!" Harry blurted out. Snape stopped in the doorway, listening. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

"Padfoot?" Umbridge questioned, looking at Snape's back. "What is Padfoot? Where what is? What is he talking about, Snape?"

Snape stood for another moment with his back facing them before slowing turning, wide eyes fixed carefully on Harry's face. Harry begged him silently to realize, to understand, to consider the urgency of what he had said, even if Snape hated Sirius so much, that he had to do something and do it quickly...

Snape looked once more at Umbridge, black eyes innocent. "No idea."

Harry let out the breath he had been holding in a down-hearted gasp. Snape had been his last hope, his last chance, and now it was gone as Snape swept like a shadow from the doorway.

"Very well," Umbridge said once Snape had completely disapeared, "you've given me no choice, Potter." She turned to face her desk and Harry watched her as a bubbling discomfort rose in his chest. "As this is an issues of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative." She looked at him and he felt like his heart had turned to lead. "The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."

"That's illegal," Hermione spoke up, glaring at Umbridge and ignoring the wand her captor was pointing at her. Ron struggled under his trapper's hand, staring loathingly at Umbridge. Abigail gave her a look so dark, Harry thought it would have killed a normal person ten times over.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," Umbridge said, turning her picture of the Minister facedown. She took her wand and turned slowly towards Harry. She pointed it at his face, looking impassive and almost sorry, but Harry knew the latter was a lie. Her mouth readily opened-

"Tell her, Harry!"

Umbridge's mouth snapped shut and her head whipped around to face the speaker's. Harry's did the same and his heart stuttered when he saw the desperate look on Hermione's face.

"Tell me what?" Umbridge asked.

"Well, if you won't tell her where it is, I will," Hermione said to Harry almost threateningly.

"Where _what_ is?" Umbridge asked forcefully.

Hermione swallowed and squin up her face, looking like she was in the deepest crossroads: between tell Umbridge the conflict or keeping it a secret. She finally choked out her answer and Harry's eyes widened.

"Dumbledore's secret weapon."

Umbridge grinned.

* * *

"How much furthur?" Umbridge asked, sounding scared, as she almost tripped over another giant tree root.

"Not far," Hermione answered shakily, leading Harry and Umbridge around another gigantous oak, "it had to be somewhere students wouldn't find it accidentally.

Umbridge grimmaced deeply, one arm holding her wand pointed at the teenagers while the other swiped disgusted at the bugs and cobwebs that kept coming near her.

Harry inconspicuously stepped up without Umbridge's notice, coming up next to Hermione.

"What are you doing?" Harry murmured.

"Improvising," Hermione whispered back shakily.

They suddenly stopped and Harry realized where they had been going. If possible, his heart would have dropped farther in his chest.

The rope that had once held a very specific giant lay broken and frayed on the ground. The said creature was no where in sight. Harry noted the horrified expression on Hermione's face.

"Well?" Harry and Hermione turned to face Umbridge, looking tense. "Where is this weapon?" Umbridge asked, watching their faces.

She suddenly stopped as realization dawned on her face. Harry and Hermione shared a look, both of them feeling a deep sense of dread creeping into their chests.

"There isn't one, is there?" Umbridge said in a low voice. It was more of a statement than a question. "You were trying to trick me."

She came up near Hermione and Hermione instinctively moved, straying over to Harry's side. Umbridge kept her wand pointed at them with an audacious look on her face.

"You know," Umbridge whispered, loud in the quiet forest, "I really hate children."

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed behind them. Umbridge's head turned like lightning, her wand still pointing at Harry and Hermione. Harry and Hermione looked up into the small clearing between the trees. Umbridge back away as the cracks turned into beating, like running footsteps. She moved through the small gap between Harry and Hermione, standing behind them as the footsteps came closer.

Figures appeared in the clearing and Harry realized the echos had not been footsteps; they had been horse hooves. He felt Umbridge tugging on his arm as she trying to put him more directly in the way of her and the centaurs. There much have been at least a dozen, likely more.

"You have no business here, centaur," she spoke suddenly, pointing at him accusingly, "this is a Ministry matter."

One of the centaurs snarled at her words as they stepped closer. One held it's bow in it's hand, the other reaching for one of the arrows on it's back. Others followed suit and aimed, while the rest watched silently.

"Lower your weapons," Umbridge commanded strongly, "I warn you! Under the law, as creatures of near-human intelligence-"

Harry ducked as the closest centaur released his arrow, heading straight for Umbridge. She waved it away with a quick flick of her wand, looking appaled.

"How dare you!" She said indignantly. "Filthy half-breed!" The attacker centaur growled again, stomping it's hoof irritatedly.

Umbridge raised her wand again, looking smug. "Incarcerous!"

Ropes flew out of the end of her wand and straight for the centaur. He kicked back on his hind legs, gasping for air as the rope wound around his neck. He neighed loudly as his clan looked on in shock. He fell forward, rolling down the small arch in the ground and onto his side, where he continued to thrash against the bindings.

Hermione rushed forward and dropped to her knees. She started to pull at the ropes furiously, gasping just like the centaur in her life-saving attempt, but to no avail. Harry hurried over to stand next to her, eyes glued to Umbridge.

"Please! Please stop it!" Hermione shouted, looking around at Umbridge with horrified eyes. She looked close to tears. "PLEASE!"

"NO! ENOUGH!" Umbridge shouted, locking eyes on the rest of the centaurs. "I WILL. HAVE. ORDER!"

Suddenly, she let out a screech as a giant hand grabbed the back of her cardigan and raised her into the air. Grawp had returned, watching the wriggling woman in his grasp with curiousity.

"Yah!" The head centaur shouted, pulling out his own bow and arrow. The rest did the same and they rushed at Grawp. The attacked centaur grunted as he finally tore through his bonds and joined the others. Hermione had stood and Harry grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the way they had come.

"FILTHY ANIMALS! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" Umbridge shouted as Grawp dangled her in his hand. The centaurs had gathered underneath her, some poking at her with fallen tree branches as the others aimed up at Grawp.

"Leave him alone! It's not his fault!" Hermione yelled at the centaurs who were pointing for Grawp. "No! He doesn't understand!"

Harry kept pulling jerkily on her arm as they made their way around the centaurs to the pathway they had come. They paused by the path, watching the scene unfold.

One centaur yelled in succession as his arrow hit the softer skin on the inside of Grawp's arm, lodging into it. Grawp looked at it dumbly before finally dropped Umbrdge, looking confused and a little terrorized.

Umbridge yelped as she fell and hit the hard ground. She looked up terrified as the group of centuars surrounded her.

"Potter, do something!" Umbridge ordered Harry. "Tell them I mean no harm!" She shouted as two centaurs grabbed her, holding her captured between them.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said as the centaurs regained their composure, "I must not tell lies."

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Umbridge screamed as the centaurs started away, bringing their prisoner with them. "I am Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Jane Umbridge! Let. Me. GOOOOO!" Her voice trailed off as the centaurs disapeared into the dark mist.

"Thank you, Grawp," Hermione said gratefully as Grawp pulled the arrow out of his flesh with a sharp snap. He smiled down at her and she returned it gently.

"Hermione," Harry spoke urgently, reaching out to touch her arm, "Hermione, Sirius!"

With one last look from Hermione, the two took off, flying at top speeds through the dark forest. They ducked and jumped tree roots, the pounded in Harry's head and heart growing heavier.

Finally, they made it out of the forest. They high-tailed it across the grounds, past Hagrid's hut and towards the castle. They ran onto the old wooden bridge between Hogwarts and its grounds, just in time to see the others running towards them.

"Are you all right?" Abigail asked immidiatley as they all slowed to a stop. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, but how'd you get away?" Hermione asked incrediously.

"Puking Pastilles," Ginny answered, "it wasn't pretty."

"Told them I was hungry, wanted some sweets," Ron said with a grin as he handed Harry and Hermione their wands back. "'Course they told me to bugger off and ate the lot themselves."

"That was clever, Ron," Hermione said and she and Harry both smiled.

Ron shrugged and grinned wider. "It's been known to happen."

"It was brilliant!" Neville complimented. "So, how're we getting to London?" He asked Harry. Everyone looked over at the raven-haired boy.

Harry's smile faded. "Look, it's not that I don't appriciate everything you've done, all of you," he said and the others' faces started to darken, "but... I've got you into enough trouble as it is." Harry started past Neville, heading towards the castle.

"Dumbledore's Army is supposed to be about doing something real," Neville said, stopping Harry in his tracks, "or was it all just words to you?"

Harry looked back at them, watching them just as seriously and carefully as they were him.

"Maybe you don't have to do this all by yourself, mate," Ron said.

Harry swallowed lightly, thinking. "So how are we going to get to London?" Harry asked finally, brightening up their faces.

Luna smiled widely as she piped up.

"We fly, of course."

* * *

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny swallowed nervously as the seven finally found the thestrals. Luna coviently, but not much to Harry's suprise, had some raw meat left in her small bag, and after about five minutes in the Forbidden Forest, they had attracted nine or ten thestrals.

"Ready, Ginny?" Luna asked the nervous redhead.

Ginny nodded shakily and took Luna's hand. Slowly, Luna helped her up onto a small thestral and helped her attach herself to it's mane for support. Luna then moved happily onto Hermione, while Harry and Neville helped a terrified Ron onto one of the skeletal creatures.

As soon as Ron was secure and Hermione had been settled, Harry turned with Luna and Neville to retreive their own thestrals. Harry grabbed his, ready to mount, when he stopped in his tracks.

Abigail stood near him, by her own thestral. Her back was turned to him, but he could still see the way her arms clutched each other, the white on her knuckles from her tight grip.

Harry pulled away from his thestral and walked over to her as the others watched Luna help Neville as he struggled to get on his own thestral. He stopped next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She ducked her face down, her blonde hair covering her expression; she'd taken out the braid a while ago.

"It'll be okay," Harry said in a low voice.

"What if something happens?" She said in a low murmur. She looked up at him, eyes shining. "What if I'm not brave enough?"

"Nothing's going to happen, I promise," Harry said, looking her straight in the eye. "We won't let you fall."

She still looked unsure of herself.

"Just think about Sirius, okay?" Harry said.

Her eyes hardened and slowly, but surely, she gave a forceful nod.

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked, holding out his hand.

She watched him for a moment and then took his outstretched hand, looking fully determined.

"Yes."

Harry quickly helped her onto the thestral as Neville finally got set on his. As soon as Abigail was settled, Harry ran over, nearly jumping onto his.

"We all ready, then?" Harry asked, looking back at his friends.

They all nodded, looking determined and strong.

"Okay..." He looked down at his thestral. "Ministry of Magic, visitor's entrance, if you know where to go, I mean..."

All the thestrals suddenly threw out their wings and with a giant sweeping movement, rose into the sky, flying at breakneck speeds. They flew into the setting sun, flying high over the Forbidden Forest and gliding tremendously over the beautiful Hogwart's castle.

_We're coming, Sirius,_ Harry thought as the castle disapeared behind them.

**SO SO SO SORRY AGAIN! My family has been taking a lot of little trips lately and I haven't had that much time to write. I've been having a lot of stress lately and it's affected my writing. I'm so sorry and I'll try to do better! Remember to hit the button!**

**Next Update: 10/29/11**


	22. Chapter 22

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

22) Side by Side

Harry did not think he had ever moved so fast: The thestral streaked over the castle, its wide wings hardly beating. The cooling air was slapping Harry's face; eyes screwed up against the rushing wind, he looked around and saw his six fellows soaring along behind him, each of them bent as low as possible into the neck of their thestral to protect themselves from its slipstream.

They were over the Hogwarts grounds, they had passed Hogsmeade. Harry could see mountains and gullies below them. In the falling darkness, Harry saw small collections of lights as they passed over more villages, then a winding road on which a single car was beetling its way home through the hills...

''This is bizarre!'' Harry heard Ron yell from somewhere behind him, and he imagined how it must feel to be speeding along at this height with no visible means of support...

Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars, and soon it was only the lights of Muggle towns that gave them any clue of how far from the ground they were or how very fast they were travelling. Harry's arms were wrapped tightly around his horse's neck as he willed it to go even faster. How much time had elapsed since he had seen Sirius lying on the Department of Mysteries floor? How much longer would he be able to resist Voldemort? All Harry knew for sure was that Sirius had neither done as Voldemort wanted, nor died, for he was convinced that either outcome would have caused him to feel Voldemort's jubilation or fury course through his own body, making his scar sear as painfully as it had on the night Mr. Weasley was attacked...

On they flew through the gathering darkness; Harry's face felt stiff and cold, his legs numb from gripping the thestral's sides so tightly, but he did not dare shift positions lest he slip... He was deaf from the thundering in his ears, and his mouth was dry and frozen from the rush of cold night air. The stars had been hidden by thick dark clouds and lightning flashed in the distance as a storm started to blow in. He had lost all sense of how far they had come; all his faith was in the beast below him, still streaking purposefully through the night, barely flapping its wings as it sped ever onward...

If they were too late...

_He's still alive, he's still fighting, I can feel it..._

If Voldemort decided Sirius was not going to crack...

_I'd know...  
_  
Harry's stomach gave a jolt. The thestral's head was suddenly pointing toward the ground and he had actually slid forward a few inches along its neck. They were descending at last... He heard one of the girls shriek behind him and twisted around dangerously but could see no sign of a falling body... Presumably they had received a shock from the change of position, just as he had...

And now bright orange lights were growing larger and rounder on all sides. They could see the tops of buildings, streams of headlights like luminous insect eyes, squares of pale yellow that were windows. Quite suddenly, it seemed, they were hurtling towards the pavement. Harry gripped the thestral with every last ounce of his strength, braced for a sudden impact, but the horse touched the dark ground as lightly as a shadow and Harry slid from his back, looking around at the street where the overflowing dumpster still stood a short way from the vandalised telephone box, both drained of colour in the flat orange glare of the streetlights.

Ron landed a short way away and toppled immediately off his thestral onto the pavement.

''Never again,'' he said, struggling to his feet. He made as though to stride away from his thestral, but, unable to see it, collided with its hindquarters and almost fell over again. "Never, ever again...that was the worst-''

Hermione and Ginny touched down on either side of him. Both slid off their mounts a little more gracefully than Ron, though with similar expressions of relief at being back on firm ground; Neville jumped down, shaking, but Luna dismounted smoothly. Abigail touched down last, looking extremely terrified. After slowly helping her unhook her fingers, Harry and Neville helped her shaking form off the thestral and steadied her on the pavement. With a quick nod from Harry, he and Neville moved away, leaving Hermione and Ginny to help comfort her.

''Where do we go from here, then?'' Luna asked Harry in a politely interested voice, as though this was all a rather interesting day-trip.

''Over here,'' he said. He gave his thestral a quick, grateful pat, then led the way quickly to the battered telephone box and opened the door. Abigail, coming out of her major shock, slid inside immidiately, then turned to watch the others expectanly.

_''Come on!'' _Harry urged the others as they hesitated.

Ron and Ginny marched in obediently; Hermione, Neville and Luna squashed themselves in after them; Harry took one glance back at the thestrals, now foraging for scraps of rotten food inside the dumpster, then forced himself into the box after Luna.

''Whoever's nearest the receiver, dial six two four four two!'' he said.

Ron did it, his arm bent bizarrely to reach the dial. As it whirred back into place the cool female voice sounded inside the box, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.''

''Harry Potter, Abigail Black, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger,'' Harry said very quickly, ''Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood... We're here to save someone, unless your Ministry can do it first!''

''Thank you,'' said the cool female voice. ''Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.''

Seven badges slid out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. Hermione scooped them up and handed them mutely to Harry over Ginny's head; he glanced at the topmost one:

**HARRY POTTER**

**RESCUE MISSION**

''Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.''

''Fine!'' Harry said loudly, as his scar gave another throb. ''Now can we _move_?''

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past the glass windows of the telephone box. The scavenging thestrals were sliding out of sight, blackness closed over their heads, and with a dull grinding noise they sank down into the depths of the Ministry of Magic.

A chink of soft golden light hit their feet and, widening, rose up their bodies. Harry bent his knees and held his wand as ready as he could in such cramped conditions, peering through the glass to see whether anybody was waiting for them in the Atrium, but it seemed to be completely empty. The light was dimmer than it had been by day. There were no fires burning under the mantelpieces set into the walls, but he saw as the lift slid smoothly to a halt that golden symbols continued to twist sinuously in the dark blue ceiling.

''The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,'' said the woman's voice.

The door of the telephone box burst open; Harry toppled out of it, followed by Neville and Luna. The only sound in the Atrium was the steady rush of water from the golden fountain, where jets from the wands of the witch and wizard, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and the house-elf's ears continued to gush into the surrounding pool.

''Come on," said Harry quietly and the six of them sprinted off down the hall, Harry in the lead with Abigail not far behind, past the fountain, toward the desk where the security man who had weighed Harry's wand had sat and which was now deserted.

Harry felt sure there ought to be a security person there, sure their absence was an ominous sign, and his feeling of foreboding increased as they passed through the golden gates to the lifts. He pressed the nearest down button and a lift clattered into sight almost immediately, the golden grilles slid apart with a great, echoing clanking, and they dashed inside. Harry stabbed the number nine button, the grilles closed with a bang, and the lift began to descend, jangling and rattling. Harry had not realised how noisy the lifts were on the day he had come with Mr. Weasley- he was sure the din would raise every security person within the building, yet when the lift halted and dinged merrily, the cool female voice said, ''Department of Mysteries,'' and the grilles slid open again, they looked out into the corridor where nothing was moving out but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift.

Harry let out a deep breath as he caught sight of the black door at the end of the straight, dark corridor. After months and months of dreaming about it, he was here at last.

The seven stepped quietly out of the lift, coming cautiously into the hallway. Harry paused, eyes glued to the door.

"This is it," he said, swallowing. He let out a shaky breath and moved forward, feeling the tension that hung around them like fog. As soon as they reached the end, just as it had done in the dream, the door swung open. As soon as everyone had crossed the threshold, darkness enveloped their sight.

_"Lumos," _Harry muttered quietly and his wand lit brightly. The others followed suit and Harry gulped again as his eyes adjusted.

They were there, they had found the place: high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the wandlight, bright mist swirling inside every sphere. The room was very cold.

Harry edged forward silently, lifting his wand slightly to try and see better down the main aisle of the long room, but it was to no avail as he could not see farther than the wand's light stretched. Everyone turned quickly as a creaking echoed behind them. The door had shut, and past it, more shelves gleamed with orbs; the door appeared to be a stand, though the group knew better.

The others looked back at Harry as his mind raced, putting everything into perspective. He nodded and turned, looking over at the nearest shelf. A small silver plaque read _76_.

"You said it was row ninety-seven," Abigail whispered. Harry confirmed her statement with another nod.

"We need to go right, I think," she went on, examining the rows beside the first. She pointed to one beside _76_, farthest from her and closest to Harry.

"Yes, that's seventy-seven," Hermione checked.

"Keep your wands out," Harry said softly.

He started quickly down the main aisle, walking the way they had come through the door. Abigail was at his heels; he could hear her nervous breathing. The others hung back, heads constantly moving for any others signs of movement.

"Ninety-two," he muttered a moment later as he passed the row. His heart started to race as his eyes darted between the dark aisle and the row numbers. "Ninety-three, ninty-four, ninty-five-" Harry silently passed row ninty-six and then he stopped, heart thumping like drums in his chest.

The space was empty.

Harry's heart dropped faster than a sinking rock. He moved his wand back and forth in the small space next to row ninty-seven, but there was no point. All was echoing, dusty silence. Harry could feel Abigail's presence near him, but he did not look at her; he did not want to look at any of them. He felt sick. He did not understand why Srius was not here. He had to be here. This is where he, Harry, had seen him...

He turned back to look at Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, Abigail by his side, swallowing his self-disgust to speak.

"H-He should be here," Harry called down the few rows to the others. His words were almost certain, but that sense of creeping, fearful doubt that had started to seap into his mind seemed to show in the words.

"Harry," Neville suddenly said in a shaky voice. He was staring at a small orb on the shelf near the group, barely paying attention to Harry's dilemma. "It- it's got your name on it."

Harry's breath stuttered as the words penitrated his mind. His thoughts of Sirius were unknowingly pushed aside as he made his way slowly back, his deep curiousity fueling him. Everyone turned, watching him walk towards the row. He looked up at one of the shelf's higher placements at the orb Neville had pointed out. The mist glimmered brightly enough for him to read the label:

**S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.**

**Dark Lord**

**and (?) Harry Potter**

Harry's hand seemed to move of its own accord; it was almost to the sphere when he registered everything happening. His turned his head, taking in the worried and confused expressions on his friends' faces. As if they had confirmed it, he turned back, reached up, and clenched the orb in his fist.

The mist seemed to brighten as he pulled the orb off its shelf. He stared at it curiously; the smoke inside seemed more of a light blue now than a grayish-haze. The glass was smooth and cold to the touch and felt so fragile, as if it would shatter just by touching it as he was now.

His muscles suddenly locked in place as the mist started to slowly, but surely swirl in its glass confinement. His breath stuttered as a slow and raspy voice started to whisper in his ear: the same voice, he recognized, he had heard once just three years previously. He listened:

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._

_Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..._

_And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not..._

_And either must die at the hand of the other..._

_...For neither can live, while the other survives_

"Harry!"

Hermione's worried call broke him out of his reverie. He turned to look at her and his heart filled with dread. He moved from the shelf, between Ginny and Hermione, and stood in front of the other six, pointing his wand like the others at the cloaked figure moving down the aisle toward them.

The Death Eater took slow, controlled steps towards the group, his mask shining in the light reflected from the teenagers' wands.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded as the Death Eater came closer.

"You know, you really should learn to tell the difference between dreams…," the Death Eater drew his wand from a too-familiar walking stick and moved it in front of his face, revealing the pompus sneer of Lucius Malfoy, "…and reality."

Harry shifted his weight nervously; the others took an involuntary step back.

"You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see," Lucius said, "now hand me the prophecy."

"If you do anything to us, I'll break it," Harry threatened glaringly.

A high, girlish laugh echoed from behind Lucius.

"He knows how to play," said the voice as woman walked into the wandlight. Harry felt Abigail tense beside him and her breath stuttered.

"Itty, bitty, baby Potter," she said mockingly before her mouth curved up into a wicked grin.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Neville achnoledged, sounding shaky.

"Neville Longbottom, is it?" Bellatrix recognized. "How's mom and dad?"

"Better, now they're about to be avenged!" Harry quickly threw his arm out as Neville's wand came up, pointing straight for the dark-haired woman. Bellatrix had done the same as Neville, waiting for him to strike.

"Let's everybody just calm down," Lucius said, bringing up both hands, "shall we?"

Harry pulled back as Neville's wand arm lowered. Bellatrix mirrored him once more, her face remaining in a crazed frown.

"All we want is that prophecy," Lucius said.

"Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?" Harry demanded.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix whispered, looking scandalized. "You filthy half-blood!" She yelled loudly.

"It's all right," Lucius said quickly, "He's just a curious lad, aren't you?"

Harry suddenly heard quick shuffling behind him as his friends started to move closer to him. He did not bother to look back; he did not have to to know that there were more Death Eaters surrounding them, stalking up through the rows of glistening orbs.

"Prophecies can only be retreived by those about whom they are made," Lucius went on, ignoring the other Death Eaters as well, "which is lucky for you, really.

"Haven't you always wondered what was the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord?" Lucius went on as he started forward toward Harry, Bellatrix on his heels. "Why he was unable to kill you when you were just an infant? Don't you want to know the secret of your scar? All the answers are there, Potter, in your hand. All you have to do is give it to me... and I can show you _everything_."

Harry's eyes traveled down to the dusty sphere in his hand as his mind whirred. He could hear the faint, raspy breathing of his friends behind him as he pondered Lucius's words. Heavy footsteps echoed as the other Death Eaters came closer and closer.

"I've waited fourteen years," Harry said.

"I know," Lucius said sweetly, as if he were talking to a toddler.

Harry's eyes flashed up. "I guess I can wait a little longer. NOW!"

_"Stupefy!" _All seven yelled at the same time, each wand pointing at a different Death Eater. Bright beams shot from every wand. The Death Eaters deflected the curses, sending them flying into the shelves around them, causing glass orbs to shatter. The Death Eaters vanished into dark smoke.

Harry rushed forward, the prophecy clenched tightly in his fist, and the others followed behind him. They all turned the around a random shelf, running down the small aisle before skidding to a stop as Lucius reappeared, hand outstretched.

They backed away and Harry turned, running down another way. Abigail, Hermione, and Ron sprinted off after him, leaving Luna, Ginny, and Neville behind.

Luna turned, starting down another aisle, but froze as a Death Eater appeared in front of her. The Death Eater swung his fist up, knocking her down as it connected with her nose. She backed away, grabbing her wand.

_"Levicorpus!" _Luna said as the Death Eater raised his wand. The man was hit with a flash of white light before being thrown backwards and out of sight. Luna just grinned, her nose dripping with blood.

Harry, Abigail, Hermione, and Ron seperated at a row of orbs. Harry darted through row after row, always switching aisles as he went.

After running through a few more shelves, he darted around one corner and barely missed running headfirst into Ron. But they didn't have time to relax as a Death Eater appeared a few feet away, wand already raised.

"Duck!"

Harry whipped his head around and saw Abigail, wand in the air. He grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him quickly down.

_"Impedimenta!" _Abigail shouted before the Death Eater could react. The Death Eater sailed back, hitting the ground with an almighty thud a ways away.

Abigail immidiately whipped around, her undone hair flying, and bolted from the scene. Harry pulled Ron up and the two darted after her.

_"Petrificus Totalus," _Neville said. The Death Eater froze up, laying helplessly on the ground in front of him.

"Well done, Neville," Luna joined him, pulling him away.

Harry, Abigail, and Ron burst through another row of shelves and Hermione met them, running out from a couple rows away. Dark smoke flashed and a Death Eater appeared close to Hermione and Ron. Hermione's head flew around, letting out a small gasp. Another one appeared on Harry and Abigail's side.

_"Stupefy!"_ Harry said and a bright light flew out of his wand. The Death Eater propelled himself upward out of the way and Harry started to run through the clear way. Abigail followed, Hermione and Ron close behind. The other Death Eater followed them as they ran.

_"Stupefy!" _Hermione shouted, sending the hex back at the trailing Death Eater.

_"Stupefy!" _Ron copied, but the Death Eater deflected both with his wand.

Hermione waved her wand in a silent manner and orbs began to fly off their shelves, hitting the approaching Death Eater and making him stop as the spheres attacked.

Harry looked over as a Death Eater flew next to him, looking at him expectantly as he gliding along-side him.

_"Stupefy!" _Harry shouted. The spell hit its target and the body went sailed into another aisle.

Hermione and Ron finally caught up to Harry and Abigail as the four reached the main aisle, only for them to run into Luna, Neville, and Ginny. Ginny let out a yelp as they collided, but steadied herself. They all stared at each other for a moment, breathing hard.

They all turned to look down a row as a spiral of dark smoke came gliding down the celing and hit the floor, heading straight for them.

Ginny's wand flashed up._ "Reducto!"_

The white light darted from her wand and collided with the dark smoke, errupting in a flash. As the light died, the group stared, looking terrified at the place where the Death Eater had been.

Suddenly, their eyes widened. They looked up as prophecy orbs started to fall, shattering into sharp pieces as they hit the ground. In a chain reaction, more spheres started to fall continuously.

And it was coming straight for them.

The group started to back away slowly, the horror of the scene dumbfounding them momentarily. Neville made the first rapid movement as he rushed up to grab the frozen Luna and pull her back as the line of shattering orbs came closer.

Harry's senses came back. "Get back to the door!"

They all started to run at top speeds through the main aisle. Compulsively, Harry looked back at the shattering spheres; they were not stopping. They all darted around a corner, but they were not safe: the shelves were now moving, falling into each other with loud clunks only overriden by the breaking sounds of prophecys smashing.

Harry's heart sped as he saw the door. He raced for it, pushing ahead of the others. The door opened as he reached it and he ran through.

And he began to fall; there was no floor to catch him. He heard the others yell as they fell behind him and then his ears were overtaken with the sound of rushing wind. His swirling vision could barely comprehend what he was seeing as the ground rushed sickeningly fast toward him.

He let out a gasp as he stopped dead in mid-air, one foot from the ground. He heard the others yelp as they did the same right behind him. Then the enchantment lifted and Harry fell, hitting the ground with a quiet thud; the groups fall was not as pleasant.

They stayed on the ground a moment, collecting themselves before stumbling shakily to their feet.

"Department of Mysteries," Ron said in a low voice, "they got that bit right, didn't they?"

Harry's eyes examined the room: this room was smaller than the prophecy room, dimly lit and circular, and the centre of it was sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet deep. They were standing on the large dais in the middle. The room looked not unlike the courtroom in which Harry had been tried by the Wizengamot. Instead of a chair, however, there stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked and crumbling that Harry was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway's interior was like the inside of the prophecies; filled with swirling mist, but brighter in the archway, like a beacon of light.

Harry's attention was immidiately drawn to it. He stepped toward it, ignoring whatever his friends were thinking. He was not as suprised as he thought he ought to have been when he heard the whispering start in his ears again, though the voices seemed to be coming from the arch instead of the glass ball gripped in his fist.

"The voices," he said to the others, "can you tell what they're saying?"

"There aren't any voices, Harry," Hermione said as they followed him up towards the arch. "Let's get out of here," she said, sounding nervous.

"I hear them too," said Luna from somewhere beside him.

"Harry, it's just an empty archway," Hermione said slowly.

"Hermione," Abigail said quietly, sounding cautious, "I can hear them too."

"Please, Harry," Hermione said as a dark rushing sound filled their ears.

Harry quickly turned, his brain registering the sound and ignoring the archway lying so heavily on his concious. He lifted his wand, pointing it towards the celing where the floating door was, the one they had just fallen through.

"Get behind me!" he said urgently. The others gathered behind him quickly, matching his posture, wands raised high as their hearts thumped loudly in their chests.

Suddenly, smoke barreled down from above, clouding them in darkness. Harry felt his body hit the ground, his hand clenching the prophecy even tighter in his hand, protecting it from harm. His vision flashed in and out as the blackness crowded him, keeping him pinned to the dais. He gripped the orb tighter as it threatened to move, the blackness pulling at it.

Within moments, his vision was clear again. He breathed deeply, laying on his side on the rocky mound, before moving, struggling onto his feet. His looked around the stone circle, his eyes scanning the scared and edgy expressions on his friends faces as unmasked Death Eaters held them tight in headlocks or fisted their hands in the teens' hairs.

A low chuckle echoed from behind him and he turned, facing Lucius Malfoy, looking powerful standing in front of the archway. The man smirked, looking as if he were at the top of the world at that moment. One hand was twisted tightly into Abigail's long blonde hair, holding her head back threateningly as his other hand kept his wand pointed directly at her throat. Abigail's eyes were wide and her breathing came in short gasps; she let out a wimper as Lucius gave a sharp tug on her hair.

"Did you actually believe," Lucius mocked, "or were you truly naive enough to think that _children_ stood a chance against us?" His smirk faded back into a serious expression. "I'll make this simple for you, Potter: give me the propechy_ now_... or watch your friends _die_. Starting," his wand made a sharp jab towards Abigail, "with this one."

Harry swallowed, watching Lucius's unyeilding expression. He looked around at his friends, waiting with bated breath as his mind seemed frozen, taking in the terrifying thought of losing any of them. The possibility of losing them, when he had already lost so much, made him numb in ways nothing else could. He looked back at Lucius, his mind coming to a conclusion.

"Don't give it to him, Harry!" Neville yelled out, his head held awkwardly back.

"Sssh!" Bellatrix commanded, pointing her wand at his throat.

Harry looked down at the bright sphere in his hand, remembering the words it had spoken to him, before looking back at Lucius with a sharp movement of his head. Slowly, his hand came up, holding the propechy out willingly, while his mind was screaming unwillingly.

Lucius's wand lowered from Abigail's throat and his wand arm reached out, hand open for the orb. Simoultaniously, Harry reached out with his other hand, cautiously moving towards Abigail's trembling arm as he and Lucius leaned closer to each other.

At the moment Lucius's hand closed in on the sphere, his other hand snapped open, willingly letting Abigail's hair lose, eyes fixed on the now dim orb in his hand. Harry's hand grabbed Abigail's arm, pulling her quickly away from the Death Eater. He instinctively pulled her behind him, watching Lucius carefully. She gripped his lower arm tightly, her head peeking around his shoulder, watching Lucius as well.

Harry's heart dropped to the floor as his eyes glued to Lucius's hungry expression. Harry's emotions were a whirlwind. He had failed tonight, not just once, but many times. He had failed to find his godfather, he had failed to protect the prophecy, and maybe, worst of all, he had failed to protect his friends. There was no alternative, there was no way to stay alive.

Harry knew they would die tonight, and it was, unmistakably, all his fault.

Suddenly, a bright flash echoed from behind Lucius and Harry's head turned, eyes landing on the person he had never, even in a million lifetimes, expected to see.

Lucius turned, looking straight dead into the eyes of Sirius Black.

"Get away from my family," Sirius said before throwing his fist into Lucius's face.

The room immidiately flew into chaos. As Lucius's body rolled down the rounded dais, more bright lights appeared, flying around the borders of the large room. The Death Eaters vanished as the lights came near them, to be replaced by dark smoke as they darted away. The lights finally landed and faded, revealing the familiar faces of Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kinsley, and Lupin, stone-faced and wands ready. Harry had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

His mind seemed to lock again as a shattering sound hit his ears. He looked down, his heart drumming painfully as he saw Lucius's horrified face, eyes locked on the silver mist rising up from where the prophecy had shattered against the ground where he had fallen.

Harry had no time to think as he was yanked out of his reverie. Sirius pulled the three of them to the side, ducking with his niece and godson behind a large rock lying on the edge of the mound. Sirius made a slashing movement with his wand, deflecting a curse a Death Eater had just sent. Sirius blocked another before the Death Eater transformed, flying off. Sirius suddenly lept to his feet, grabbing Harry and Abigail's hands and moving away from the rock as a rebounding curse hit where Abigail's head had just been.

Sirius rushed over to the nearest rocky mound, dragging Harry and Abigail with him. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ginny jump off a nearby rock and join what looked like Luna and Tonks as they ran around the dais on flat ground, dashing closer to where Hermione was standing, looking terrified.

As Sirius reached the rock, he shoved Harry and Abigail up against it protectively, his head taking turns as he watched them and the battle at the same time.

"Now listen to me," he said to them, his face flicking back and forth quickly as he kept tabs on the scene, "I want you to take the others and get out of here."

"What? No," Harry said, eyes wide.

"We're staying with you," Abigail gasped out.

"You've done beautifully," Sirius said, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, "now let me take it from here."

Abigail's head flew forward and she let out a scream as another hex hit the back of the space next to her head, breaking the cement into pieces. Sirius pulled her closer to him and Harry as his head turned, all six eyes glued on the same thing.

Lucius gripped his wand tightly as he appeared on the other side of the dais, looking at them with a slightly crazy expression, his mouth in a smirk and his hair disheveled. Another Death Eater appeared as Sirius jumped away from the rock, facing the two. Harry and Abigail followed, all wands raised.

The five began to fight, minds silently casting spells (as Harry and Abigail had learned in the D.A. lessons), throwing and deflecting hexs from each side. Lights flashed as they collided and rebounded, a fast array of blinding flashes and smacking sounds. Maniacal laughed echoed in the air as dark smoke collided with a flurry of light around them, but Harry's mind barely registered as his own fight continued.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry heard Abigail finally yell. Lucius's cohort froze, toppling uncerimoniously off the dais.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted as Lucius pulled another wand from his belt. Lucius's smirk dropped quickly as the wand flew through the air. His head turned back, looking shocked.

"Nice one, James!" Sirius complimented beside him.

Harry looked over at his godfather, stunned for a moment before he mind went back to the problem at hand.

Sirius and Lucius were now fighting one on one. The room seemed to have gone quiet except for the sound of the clashing spells coming from the men's wands. Sirius was advancing on Lucius, leaving Harry and Abigail standing a few feet away. Lucius stumbled closer to the edge of the dais as Sirius neared the silver veil of mist hanging from the archway beside him.

Sirius made a swirling movement with his wand and Lucius's flew away, leaving him defenseless. With one final movement, Sirius launched one last spell. A bright light hit Lucius and he flew back, disapearing into the dark corners of the room.

Harry's mouth had turned up like Sirius's; all was well, they would all be fine. They had survived because the Order had come, they had rescued them. His friends would live and he would live and they would all be together because they were safe...

But Harry's momentary relief was not to be held.

_"Avada Kedavra!" _A high pitched voice screamed and suddenly the world seemed to slow.

Harry's smile faded as the green light hit Sirius. Sirius's face fell as the reality sank in; his breathing became rasping and rackety. Harry's head flew around, his eyes taking in the psychotic form of Bellatrix Lestrange, standing erect on a rock a few meters away. Harry's head whipped back, his eyes locked on his godfather. He wanted to reached out, wanted to grab his godfather away, but he couldn't as his body froze into place.

Without warning, Sirius stumbled back and his body crossed into the arch's silver veil. His eyes locked onto Harry, looking deep as if trying to memorized every single flaw on the boy's face. Harry saw the look of mingled seriousness and suprise on his godfather's handsome face, and somewhere, deep in the darkest corners of Harry's mind, he could only think one thing.

_No._

And, with a final breath of air, Sirius's head fell back, his body lifted, and Harry's godfather disapeared forever.

**:( Sorry again for the late update. Long and irritating chapter.**

**This part of Harry Potter always makes me feel as if I were suspended in time, if any of you know what I mean. It's like the world goes quiet everytime I see this or everytime I read it. Fantasy or not, it feels like this will always deserve a special moment of silence.**

**So, two or three more chapters before this book closes and the second one opens. It feels like just the other day I posted the first chapter, bringing Abigail's character into Harry's life and changing a family he always wanted. I can't believe it's been eight months. Sigh...**

**Next Chapter (hopefully): 11/12/11**


	23. Chapter 23

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

23) Possession

Harry's mind numbed immidiately. He could not comprehend what he had seen, what everything about this moment was trying to force into his mind. The idea was impossible, improbable, and he could not believe one bit of it.

But the evidence was clear. Because Sirius was gone, and Harry was alone.

"NO! NO!"

He scrambled for the archway, but arms wrapped suddenly around him, restraining him from following the only family he had ever known. He fought against Lupin's stronghold, trying with all his might to reach the arch, to reach his godfather, who, against Harry's will, had recieved the same fate Harry had only dreamed about. Tears cascaded heavily down his cheeks as he let out a heavy scream, his body bending over the armed barrier holding him back, clinging to Lupin as if his life depended on it, the irony of everything and the failure of the task finally hitting him like a bludger to the head.

The fantasy had become a reality.

Then, as if from a distance, he heard a chuckle, the cross between psychotic and gleeful he had heard as the battle had raged only a moment earlier. His head seemed to turn of its own accord, twisting to lock onto the person he hated most in the world at that very second.

Bellatrix Lestrange backed away towards a small opening the wall, unnoticed by the rest of the Order. Her hand was pressed against her chest and she shook her head, as if mourning the act she had commited herself. But then, her smile turned up in a grin, a sadistic smile that made Harry's blood boil. With a disgusted look at him, she turned, entered the opening, and ran out of sight.

Harry's anger fused up inside of him and his mind slowly clicked into one thought.

She had killed Sirius; so now_ he _would kill_ her_.

With an unexpected burst of strength, Harry finally broke away from Lupin and barreled towards the opening where Bellatrix had disapeared. He raced for it, ignoring any of the voices calling behind him.

But as he ran, he heard Tonks scream a new name.

"Abbie! No!"

And then he heard footsteps join his own as he entered the doorway, a light pounding coming from someone else's sneakered feet.

_Yes, _he thought as he ran down the small corridor, _yes, she's going to help... she's going to help me...we're going to killl _her_, just like she killed Sirius..._

The hallway opened up and Harry bolted into the main lobby of the Ministry. Any other time he would have been suprised at the convienience of the doorway, but Bellatrix's voice came floating into his ear and his anger grew into a fiery rage.

"I killed Sirius Black!" Bellatrix sang as she ran across the lobby. She let out a cackle, "You coming to get me?" She said shrilly as she peeked over her shoulder.

_"Crucio!" _Harry shouted before she could run into a fireplace. With a shriek, Bellatrix fell, landing uncerimoniously on the dark, glistening floor. Harry stopped in front of her gasping form, breathing hard, his wand pointed straight for her.

For the first time that night, Bellatrix looked scared. Her bottom lip started to tremble as she stared at the wand pointed for her. She was no longer laughing.

Harry's breathing did not slow as he fought to do what he wanted to do.

_You've got to mean it, Harry, _a voice whispered to him. _._

"Harry," a familiar voice huffed behind him, "Harry, don't!"

He did not look at her, his eyes focused solely on the madwoman in front of him. His neck twisted awkwardly as it had in the past few months; he felt dark, as if something taken power from the inside, just like it had before...

_She killed him; she deserves it_

"Harry, listen to me," Abigail had come up next to him, trying to look him in the eyes, "Harry, you're not a murderer. I know what she did, but Harry... Harry, this isn't you."

_You know the spell, Harry..._

"This isn't what what Sirius would have wanted!" Abigail said, tears falling down her face again. "Please, Harry!"

Suddenly, Bellatrix started to smile, which turned in a grin, which turned into a low chuckle. Harry's neck flexed again as he felt something come near him; he could feel another presence near him, one he did not want...

"Do it!"

Abigail's head whipped around beside him and she stumbled back, her face contorted in terror as she looked past Harry's face to what he knew she was seeing.

The voice was no longer in Harry's head; he heard it plain and clear from behind him. His head flashed around, his eyes landing on the pale white face, the slitted nostrils, the red eyes: everything that had haunted him over the last year.

He turned, flinging his wand out to strike, but Lord Voldemort was ready; with one move of his arm, Harry's wand went flying. Harry stumbled at the force of the spell; he was now defenseless.

Vodemort stared at him for a moment.

"So weak," he murmured. "You have to _mean_ it." His wand came up, pointing in Harry's direction. "I will... show you."

With a whip of his boney wand, Voldemort yelled, _"Crucio!"_

In the next second, a scream echoed behind Harry. His head turned like lightning, forgeting the threat of the snake-like man he had looked away from. It was only then he realized that Voldemort had not been aiming for him.

Abigail's body twisted, bending back as she quickly sank to the floor. She screamed and writhed as Voldemort continued the spell. Bellatrix watched from her place on the floor, grinning evilly.

Harry darted over to his friend, crouching beside her as she screamed. He did not know what to do as her body flailed. He sat next to her, his head whipping between her shrieking form and Voldemort, who kept his wand held high, looking cold but powerful.

After a few moments, the spell stopped. Abigail choaked out breaths, laying sideways on the cool tile floor. With jerky, pained movements, she propped herself up onto her elbow. Her hair fell thickly over her face, the curls dirty and frizzy from everything that had happened.

Harry grabbed her other elbow, trying to hoist her up, but stopped, his hand still gripping her elbow in midair. She had paused too, one arm in the air where Harry was trying to help her, the other still propping her up against the cold floor.

Voldemort's wand had risen again, pointing in their direction. Their eyes widened, neither pair straying from the being in front of them.

"But now, Potter," Voldemort spoke softly, "You will die."

Suddenly, a bright green fire sprung up in a nearby fireplace and Albus Dumbledore stepped out, looking calm but serious. Through his emotions, the fear, the anger, the pain, Harry couldn't help but feel a strange sense of relief seeing the half-moon spectacles and the white beard.

"It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom," Dumbledore spoke, wand ready as he approached Harry and Abigail, "the Aurors are on their way."

Harry finally broke from his silent shock, helping Abigail shakily up off the floor.

"By which time I shall be gone...," Voldemort said. He took a sweeping step backwards and smiled, "...and you shall be dead."

Both swept their wands at the same time, Voldemort's a jerky jab while Dumbledore's a quick circle. Red and green collided as the duel began.

Harry suddenly felt himself being pushed sideways. He landed on his back against a wall only a few feet away from the scene of the fight. He felt another body slam next to him and he sat up, refocusing his blurred vision. Abigail pulled herself up next to Harry, looking scared.

Harry's attention was momentarily diverted as another fire sprang up in another fireplace. He watched as Bellatrix sprang in and, in seconds, disapear from the Ministry.

He shoved down his instincts to follow her and turned back to the fight, raging more furiously than ever. Dumbledore and Voldemort's spells had collided and stayed, forming a red and green light between the two, each fighting to push their spell towards the other. The spells sparked and cracked like electricity. Voldemort jabbed his wand twice towards Dumbledore, keeping the line going all the while.

Harry ducked as the spells hit the wall over their heads, raining broken and shattered glass tiles on the two of them. Both of Abigail's hands came up, trying to protect her face and head from the barrage of glass.

The glass stopped falling as Dumbledore moved father in front of them, keeping Voldemort from reaching the wall again. Harry sat up, small scrapes on his hands from where he had protected his head. Abigail did the same, one hand pressed against the back of her blonde head. Her mouth hung open, as if in great shock, and her eyes were schrunched in pain. Slowly and painstakingly, she pulled her hand away from her skull, swallowing at the blood on her fingers.

The fight was turning nasty as Voldemort finally released the spell, spliting the line. Immidiately, he drew his white hand to his face in a cup before breathing fire from his mouth. The fire raised up, up, up, before forming into a giant, flaming snake. Voldemort laughed as it hissed and Harry was suddenly reminded of the giant baskilisk from the Chamber of Secrets.

Dumbledore stumbled back as the snake leaned forward to strike. Dumbledore quickly flicked his wand, sending the beast's head into the celing. It spat, but started to deform, pulling into a firey ball in front of Dumbledore. Dumbledore whipped his wand and the fire pushed out, spreading as it flew towards Voldemort. Voldemort made a motion as the fire encased him. The fire did not harm him, but dissolved into nothing as it came close.

Dumbledore acted quickly. His wandtip shining blue, he started to draw circles in the air. Water splashed out of the fountain in the middle of the atrium; in this case, right behind Voldemort's back.

The water encased the Dark Lord, gathering and gathering into a huge ball of ripping waves. The ball started to move as Voldemort struggled to escape. Dumbledore's hands trembled with the effort, his wand still circling in the air.

Harry struggled up, coming behind Dumbledore, but was pushed back down again as Voldemort's face finally shown in the rough waters. The water splashed to the floor as Voldemort escaped, looking furious.

He pointed his wand harshly and Dumbledore's came up as a dark shadow threatened to hit the headmaster. The shadow suddenly retreated as Voldemort pulled it towards him, forming a ball in his hands. With a mighty cry, his hands flew out and the energy released.

Harry ducked as every glass panel, window and tile alike, shattered into millions of pieces. The sound was deafening, like a million of Aunt Petunia's china bowls shattering at once. The glass came like rain, splitting into minescule pieces as it reached the floor.

But Voldemort wasn't done yet. Grinning wildly, he raised his arms up, hooking his hands together over his head. Around the atrium, the glass pieces began to rise eerily into the air. Then, they started to fly: through the air, past Voldemort, and heading straight for Harry and Dumbledore. Harry quickly ducked his head.

With a quick, soundless spell, Dumbledore reconjured his shield, bending down as to protect Harry from the sharp glass. As the glass passed through the shield, it became nothing more than sand, the sediments covering the ground in white. Finally, Dumbledore released the shield, and the two covered their faces as the rest of the sand swirled by.

Voldemort looked shocked and furious, letting out a raspy breath as the smoke cleared from the glass army. Dumbledore stood, his glasses gone. Harry stumbled up behind him, watching the Dark Lord carefully like the headmaster.

Voldemort's arms dropped and he stepped back, looking deadly. Suddenly, with no other words spoken, the sand around him rose and encased him in a small, silent whirlwind. When the winds vanished and the sediments fell, Voldemort was gone.

A light breeze ruffled the minescule pieces of glass on the ground. The atrium seemed deathly silent. Three sets of breathing were all that could be heard in the large room.

Harry was still tense, his body seemingly ready for a fight or flight, but the epidemic _seemed_ to be over-

Suddenly, Harry's let out a strangled, choking noise, as if he had been punched in the stomach. His stomach twisted sickly and his scar seemed to burst, the pain beyond anything he had felt this year. He fell slopily to the ground, falling forward onto his chest, his arms holding him up off of the ground. He grunted in pain, his body shifting uncomfortably as he felt the pain in his head increase.

A quick shuffling sound came from behind him, and a moment later, someone knelt down in his vision, looking terrified.

"Harry?" Abigail asked. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Dumbledore came up behind her, looked more horrified than Harry had ever seen. He knelt down carefully, stumbling in his old age.

And suddenly Harry felt the shift as something in him took control. Rage and anger that did not belong to him boiled inside him. He saw through his eyes, but the voice he spoke with was not his own.

"You've lost old man," Voldemort's voice whispered through Harry's tight jaw. Both onlookers eyes widened, looking scared.

Harry let out a yell and his body jerked as memories filled his mind.

_Lily, throwing the door closed as a dark figure stalked through the hallway._

_Sirius, smiling as the green light hit him in the chest. _

_Cedric, falling dead onto the dark grass in the graveyard._

_A dementor, reaching out, trying to grab his soul away._

_Cedric, his body twisting in the air as the green light encased him._

_Sirius's head falling back as his body disapeared into the veil._

Harry came back to the present as he tried to fight off Voldemort's invading presence. He let out another gasp, his body turning in discomfort on the floor.

"Harry," Dumbledore whispered, his blue eyes pennitrating Harry's own.

Harry didn't answer as different images filled his mind.

Voldemort, the real one, sneered at Harry through his mind, looking triumphant.

"So weak," he whispered again. "So vunerable."

_Harry stood in front of a large mirror, his own face completely horrified. His head jerked unnaturally twice before whipping around to look into the mirror, where Voldemort's face now was._

_"Look at me," Voldemort murmured._

Harry's vision blurred before coming back to reality. His head was touching the floor now; his arms had given out, leaving him lying on the ground.

Dumbledore looked at him with sympathy in his worn features. He had taken Abigail's place, watching Harry worriedly. Abigail sat close behind him, face shining with tears.

"Harry," Dumbledore whispered, sounding sad, "it isn't how you are alike. It's how you are not."

Harry's body raised halfway up, looking slightly mad, before Harry fought again. With another cry, he fell back to the ground, his scar splitting with pain.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, looking close to tears.

Harry was on his side now, his body laying in what could have been a sleeping position. His body gave a small twitch, his hand clenching tightly in the sand.

Suddenly, five figures burst in from across the room. Harry watched through strained vision as his five friends gathered beyond the fountain, looking desperately for their leader. Hermione and Ron found him first, their faces becoming as sad and worn looking as Dumbledore's. He felt an extreme pang of sadness as his eyes connected with his two best friends.

_Friends..._

His eyes clenched shut as pain racked his bidy once more. More memories flooded his mind.

_Hermione ran into his arms, completely unpetrified and happy as ever. Harry's heart felt whole again._

_Ron smirked at him as they sat at the dinner table inside the Burrow._

_Lily and James smiled at his through Erised's glass._

_Abigail grinned at him under the birch tree on the grounds, outshining the horror of the scars engraved on her arms._

_Sirius hugged him tightly in the Black Family Room._

_Harry, Hermione, and Ron laughed gleefully, ignoring the Shrieking Shack as they thought over Malfoy's just desserts again and again._

_Hermione and Ron smiled at him from the banister as he exited the Hospital Wing, their eleven year old faces excited._

_Harry, Abigail, Ron, and Hermione laughed light-heartedly in the Common Room, looking as if the world had been right with itself all along._

Harry's mind flashed back and his mouth opened shakily. "You're the weak one," he spoke as Voldemort appeared in front of his eyes, looking stunned and confused, "and you'll never know love or friendship. And I feel _sorry _for you."

He let out another shout as the memories spun through his mind.

_The dementor coming for his soul._

_Cedric's body ramming into the cold ground._

_The firey snake withdrawing._

_The dark maze glinting eerily._

_Dumbledore disapearing in a fiery flash._

Harry's fist rammed into the glass in his mind, his determination stronger than ever. Voldemort let out a cry of pain, looking agonized. Harry's fist punched again and again, cracking the glass into hundreds of pieces.

_Sirius hugging him as he entered Grimmauld place's dining room. And as he smiled, he knew that, in that moment, everything was okay._

Harry's body flipped onto his back as the last memory overpowered him. His back arched as a shadow spilled out of it, forming a few feet away from him. The pain in his scar had finally disapeared; the numbing pain was gone. His body fell flat as the shadow finally left, leaving his body fully in his control.

A shuffling sound entered his ears and a face came into his view. Abigail stared sadly down at him, her long hair falling like a curtain, framing her teary face. Her jade eyes stared into his, and it was almost as if a moment of understanding passed between them. She took his left hand in her two, holding it tightly as if he would slip away from her at any moment.

But his attention was diverted as the shadow in front of his took shape. Abigail did not look as Voldemort formed at his feet, looking smugly down as Harry.

"You're a fool, Harry Potter," Voldemort whispered, "and you will lose _everything_."

Abigail did look now, her head turning slowly to face the Dark Lord, her eyes shining innocently.

And Harry saw something he had never seen in the ugly, evil face of his enemy: confusion. He watched as Voldemort stared intently at the girl crouched by Harry's side, as if examining a strange specimen.

"Impossible," Voldemort muttered.

From the side, Harry saw Abigail's face twist in confusion, but the moment was interrupted as bright lights sprang up in the fireplaces around the atrium.

Voldemort straightened, looking up as Ministry officials burst into the Ministry, looking horrified at the sight of the Dark Lord.

With a whisp of wind, Voldemort was gone; but Harry knew he would be back.

He was suddenly hit with an overwhelming tiredness as Voldemort disapeared. Abigail's face turned back, looking him in the eyes again. Dumbledore came up behind her, but Harry could barely see the elder's face as his eyes began to close, his vision becoming blurry. He felt Abigal squeeze his hand as his eyes shut, as if wishing him a dreamless sleep.

"He's back!" Harry heard Fudge as if from far away. The buzzing was in the way.

And then Harry fell into blackness.

**Better chapter, I like this one a lot :) Okay, so like one or two more chapters and then SECOND BOOK! DUN DUN DUN! Okay, sorry, I'm just on this CRAZY HIGH! HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART TWO IS OUT! YES YES YEEEEESSSS! I'M SO DANG EXCITED THESE WORDS ARE NOTHIN'! WOOOOOO!**

**Next Update: 11/19/11**


	24. Chapter 24

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

24) The First War Ends...

"Harry? Harry, come on. Please Harry, we need to go. Harry, wake up."

Harry's eyes finally fluttered open. He took a deep breath; the air around him was cold and stale. His back was resting on something cool; he could feel it through his jacket. An ache pounded in his forehead and he was sweaty.

But he was _alive_.

His eyes focused; he blinked a few times, finding Abigail and Hermione's worried faces just above his own. He craned his neck a bit and saw Ron, Neville, GInny, and Luna farther beside him, looking grim.

"Come on, Harry," Abigail urged again, her voice soft, her hands gripping his arm.

Harry finally registered. Against his body's will, he started to move, pushing on his sore limbs. Ron reached past Hermione, grabbing his other arm to help him up. Harry got into a sitting position, finding it better to breathe that way that on the hard floor. Ron and Abigail each put a hand on his shoulder, holding him up.

They were all still in the atrium and he was still laying where he had fallen asleep. He could tell he had not been asleep for long, but his back still seemed achy. There were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been.

''Are you all right, Harry?'' Hermione asked.

Harry swallowed and nodded, the movement rapid and small. His body was still shaking a little violently. ''Yeah, I'm -where's Voldemort, where-who are all these-what's-''

The Atrium was full of people, streams of witches and wizards still emerging from the fireplaces.

''He was there!'' shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, ''I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who!''

''I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!'' gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. ''Merlin's beard-here-here!- in the Ministry of Magic!-great heavens above-it doesn't seem possible-my word-how can this be-?''

''If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius-,'' said Dumbledore, who Harry suddenly realized was behind him, "-you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained, being watched by other Aurors and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them.''

''Dumbledore!'' gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. ''You-here-I-I-''

He looked wildly around at the people with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, ''Seize him!''

''Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men-and win, again,'' said Dumbledore, "but a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!''

''I-don't-well -'' blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, ''Very well-Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see... Dumbledore, you-you will need to tell me exactly what happened."

''We can discuss that after I have sent Harry and his friends back to Hogwarts,'' said Dumbledore.

Fudge's eyes flicked to Harry, who was still sitting with Dumbledore and his friends.

''Why-what's all this about?'' Fudge asked, looking back at Dumbledore.

''I shall explain everything,'' repeated Dumbledore, ''when they are back at school.''

He stood and and made a small motion to Harry and his fellows. Abigail and Ron gripped Harry's arms and helped pull him up; he suddenly felt tired, as if he would collapse at any minute. Ron stepped away when he made sure Harry was steady on his feet, but Abigail kept her hand on his shoulder as a precaution.

Dumbledore moved away, eyes scanning the floor. A few feet away, he reached down, grabbing a large piece of glass that had not been ground into dust. He pointed his wand at it and muttered something under his breath. The glass shifted and swirled, transforming into a reasonably sized book in the headmaster's hand.

''Portus," Dumbledore then murmured, distinctly enough that Harry heard it. The book glowed blue and trembled for a few seconds, then became still once more.

''Now see here, Dumbledore!'' said Fudge. ''You haven't got authorisation for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister of Magic, you-you-''

His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially.

''I will give you...,'' Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it, "...half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me.''

Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair.

''I-you-''

Dumbledore turned his back on him.

"Come now," he beckoned to the students.

Abigail grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him across the floor toward Dumbledore, the others in their wake.

"Abbie," Harry said groggily, his blurry eyes taking in the red stain soaking her hair on the back of her skull as she pulled him along behind her, "your head-"

"I know," she said softly, "it's alright."

Dumbledore held out the book as the seven approached and Harry placed his hand on it with the others, past caring what he did next or where he went.

''I shall see you in a while,'' said Dumbledore vaguely and quietly. ''One... two... three...''

Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath his feet; the Atrium, Fudge, and Dumbledore had all disappeared and he was flying forwards in a whirlwind of colour and sound...

After a few moments, Harry's feet hit solid ground. His knees buckled under him and he fell onto them, bumping them on the floor. The book fell with a thump in front of him.

"Harry!" Hermione said worriedly. She stumbled over, assissting Abigail in helping him up. He managed to stand, but wobbled, threatening to fall over again. Abigail and Hermione moved him away from the Portkey, guiding him backward. They set him down on something soft behind him and set him down, laying him back on a bed. The others gathered around him, watching him.

Madam Pomfrey burst out of the office of the Hospital Wing. She was clad in her nightgown, but looked alert and ready. Clutched tightly in her fist was a bright orange feather and in the other her wand. She flicked it as she came closer to them, the torches in the room bursting into light.

"The headmaster said you were coming," she said as she stroade over to them. "Take a bed, all of you. He wants you to stay overnight for healing."

Looking hesitantly and worriedly at Harry, the others slowly moved away, picking different beds around him. Hermione gave his hand a small squeeze before leaving his side, taking the bed next to him. Abigail gave him a meaningful look before taking her residence on the bed across from his.

Madam Pomfrey started her round, checking Luna physically and asking her questions, but Harry was far away from everything around him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fought back tears as his gut twisted.

It was his fault Sirius had died; it was all his fault. If he, Harry, had not been stupid enough to fall for Voldemort's trick, if he had not been so convinced that what he had seen in his dream was real, if only he had opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort was, as Hermione had said, banking on Harry's so called _love of playing the hero_...

It was unbearable, he would not think about it, he could not stand it... There was a terrible hollow inside him he did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius had vanished. He did not want to have to be alone with that great, silent space, _he could not stand it_. The guilt filling the whole of Harry's chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite writhed and squirmed. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being Harry anymore... He had never felt more trapped inside his own head and body, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody- anybody- else...

"Harry? Mr. Potter?" A thin hand shook his shoulder lightly and he opened his eyes, lids heavy. He was still so tired...

"Your injuries were minimal," Madam Pomfrey said, busying herself with a bottle and goblet next to his bedside. "A few scratches and bruises; nothing time and a bit of rest won't heal."

He nodded, dizzying himself in the process.

"Here you go," she said as she finished pouring the thin purple liquid into the goblet. She handed it to him, her face reflecting kindness.

"You'll need to drink all of this Harry," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep. And don't you worry, dear," she said softly, "it'll all be alright."

Harry nodded again, even though his head was screaming disagreements in her direction as she bustled off to Hermione's bed. He raised the goblet and took a few mouthfuls of the potion. He felt himself become drowsy at once, even heavier than the insomnia that had already claimed him. Everything around him became hazier; his body felt as though it was sinking deeper and deeper into the warmth of the mattress beneath him. Numbly, he raised the goblet, pushing it onto the small table beside him. His hand fell lazily as his exhaustion finally took over, pushing his troubles away so he could finally sleep.

**Sorry for the short chapter :( I really want to put all the rest of the finer points in the last chapter, but either way, I still do like this chapter. It was interesting to write, with many more points from the book than in previous chapters.**

**WAIT! Last chapter, you ask?**

**Yes, the next chapter is, unfortunately, the last of Book 1. :( BUT! I am pleased to say that I finally get to start on the second book! :) Hopefully Book 2 will be just as entertaining as this one. Stick around for the concluding chapter in "How Three Became Four: Book 1."**

**Next Update: 12/17/11 **

******Update!**** (12/8/11)**

**Unfortunately, my computer's being a big fat MEANIE again :P So, unfortunately, the deadline for the last chapter is being moved a week further (12/10 - 12/17). Very, very sorry for the inconvience :( Hopefully my computer will be better soon and I won't have to move the deadline again... Once more, sorry.**


	25. Chapter 25

How Three Became Four

**OK, so this is going to be a running series. I've decided for the moment to update once a week every week, but that's only if I choose otherwise. Anyway, this is a changed and re-arranged version of book 5 and the movie, editted together for a new story. So, enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer: You know, I get REAL tired of admitting that I don't own it. WE ALL KNOW IT BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING!**

24) ...And The Second War Begins

**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS**

_In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more._

_"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord-well, you know who I mean-is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord- Thingy._

_"We urge the magician population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary homes and personal defence which will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month."_

_The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumours that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."_

_Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He Who Must Not Be Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening._

_Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailiable for comment last night. He had insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the Boy Who Lived has become popular once more and is gaining more supporters as the days wear on. (con'd on pg. 7)_

Harry continued to slowly pack his trunk, ignoring the _Daily Prophet _flung uncerimoniously didn't bother to read the rest because, frankly, he didn't care. His mind was consumed with more important things than anymore of the lies the _Prophet_ could throw out.

The last day of Hogwarts second term was coming to a close. Tomorrow he would be back in his Muggle clothes, riding the Hogwarts Express back to his Muggle family, and going back to his Muggle life, in which he would have to pretend that he was alright, as if nothing that happened had mattered. As if Voldemort hadn't mattered. As if losing his godfather _hadn't mattered_.

Sirius's death was pushed into a corner of his mind; it was hard thinking about, so he resolved not to. Anytime the others may have tried to bring it up, he would make an excuse or pretend not to hear. The only one who hadn't tried to bother him was Abigail, who barely spoke at all in the days following the battle in the Ministry; she looked as depressed as Harry did nowadays.

Another, more pressing topic thrummed in his mind. Harry had not told Abigail, Ron, Hermione, or anyone else what the prophecy had contained. He didn't know what to think about it; he didn't fully understand it anyway, but, in some part of him, he was sure he had figured part of it out, and the thought of it made his heart constrict painfully.

_...For neither can live, while the other survives..._

Harry picked his jacket up off of his bed. Distractedly, he picked at a crustied spot of dirt on its sleeve. He hadn't washed the clothes he had worn that night, not during the whole week he had been back at school. He messed with it for a moment longer, staring down at the worn fabric, before folding it up and packing it away inside his trunk. With a snap, he closed the large case and flicked the metal clasps shut. He turned away from his trunk and sat back on the soft bed, letting his shoulders slump.

_...For neither can live while the other survives..._

Harry had no time to think as hurried footsteps stumbled into the dormitory. He looked up as Neville rushed in, looking the slightest bit flustered. His hands were shaking slightly and he wrung them together as he approached Harry.

"H- Hi, Harry," Neville said, "Um... Dumbledore sent me; he said he wanted to speak with you." Neville hurredly reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of parchment. He handed it to Harry, who unfolded it. On it, plain and simple, in Dumbledore's neat, loopy writing, was the word 'Licorice.'

Harry's heart twisted uncomfortably. He hadn't spoken or tried to communicate with Dumbledore in anyway since the fight at the Ministry; in truth, he hadn't wanted to at all. But, now that Dumbledore had sent for him, there really was no choice left in his favor.

He nodded. "Thanks Neville."

Neville returned the nod and then left the room, looking more comfortable than he had coming in. Harry kept his eyes on the door for a moment, swallowed, then stood and headed out.

* * *

"I know how you feel, Harry."

"No you don't."

Dumbledore watched Harry sadly at his quick rejection. Harry swallowed, his eyes lowered; he couldn't find it in himself to meet Dumbledore's.

Dumbledore's office was as it had been the night he had vanished. His silver instruments stood on their spindle-legged tables, puffing and whirring serenly. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were talking to each other in low voices, throwing Harry furtitive glances. The office was in shadows, but soft light spilled through the windows; the last light of the day as night came.

Harry watched his hands. "It's my fault."

"No," Dumbledore said, watching Harry carefully, "the fault is mine."

Harry finally looked up, looking at the headmaster in confusion.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort made the connection between you," Dumbledore continued. "I thought by distancing myself from you, as I have done all year, you'd be less tempted, and therfore you might be more protected."

Harry swallowed again before speaking. "The prophect said, _'Neither one can live as the other one survives.'_ It means... one of us is going to have to kill the other, in the end."

Dumbledore stared deeply at him before answering. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked immidiately.

"For the same reason you tried to save Sirius," said Dumbledore, "the same reason your friends saved you. After all these years, after all your suffering, I didn't want to cause you anymore pain. I care too much about you."

* * *

Harry walked slowly down the stairs away from Dumbledore's office, thinking about what he had just been told. He eyed Filch carefully as he passed him; the caretaker glared and returned to rehanging the castle's portraits.

The mood in the castle had brightened since Umbridge had left. Dumbledore, somehow, had rescued her from the forest and the centaurs and returned with not even a tear in his cloak; no one understood it. After some mending from a very reluctant Madam Pomfrey, Umbridge had been returned to almost complete health, but Harry had heard that she was very jittery ever since. She was removed from her post, not just as headmistress, but as a teacher as well. She had also been sentenced to questioning, as it had leaked to the media about some of her "punishments."

Harry passed some laughing students as they hurried to the end-of-term feast in the Great Hall. He turned down a side hall, heading away from the feastivities; he wasn't in the mood.

He caught sight of Luna as he walked down the hallway. She was hanging something up on the stone walls, some sort of parchment that he didn't recognize. He steered towards her.

"How come you're not at the feast?" Harry asked.

"Lost all my possesions," Luna replied, turning to him. She pointed at the list of items on the parchments she was hanging. "Aparently people have been hiding them." She started down the hall again.

"That's awful," he said sincerly, following her.

"Oh, it's all good fun," she insisted, "but as it's the last night, I really do need them back." She stopped to hang another sign.

"Do you want any help finding them?"

She shook her head, smiling slightly at him. She shifted a bit and looked back at him, staring him in the eye.

"'I'm sorry about your godfather, Harry."

His heart twisted painfully and he swallowed. Luna smiled a bit again and reached out, squeezing his fist gently.

"Are you sure you don't want any help looking?" He asked as she took her hand away.

"That's alright," she shook her head again. "Anyway, my mum always said, 'The things we lose always have a way of coming back to us in the end.'" She smiled dreamily and looked up. Harry followed her gaze, eyes landing on a pair of red-checkered shoes hanging from the hall's arch in front of them.

"If not always in the way we expect." She looked at him; he continued to stare at the shoes. "Think I'll just go have some pudding."

He looked over at her and she gave a small wave before skipping down the hall towards the dining hall. Harry gave one final look at the shoes.

Suddenly the shoes vanished, pulling up over the railing. Harry hurried forward, intending to take them from whatever student stole them again. He looked up the rounded staircase at the culprit and stopped, hand resting on the bottom of the banister.

Abigail held up the shoes by their strings as she descended, giving him a gentle half-smile. She stopped in front of him.

"Just thought she'd like these back," the blonde said.

Harry nodded, watching her. She swallowed and lowered the shoes, looking around a bit awkwardly.

"Why aren't you at the feast?" Harry asked.

"I... wasn't very hungry," Abigail answered, refocusing on him. "And you?"

He shook his head. "Wasn't hungry," he repeated her words.

She nodded. "Right," she said, "Well, I should... go give these back." She gestured to the shoes again.

He nodded and she stepped around him, heading for the Great Hall. His head turned away from her back and his eyes fell to the ground. He pivoted in place and sank down slowly, sitting on the stair steps. He interlocked his fingers, arms resting on his knees, and stared at the ground, feeling his thoughts travel off again.

Unseen by him, Abigail stopped, half-turning to look back at his despairing-looking form. She bit her bottom lip and watched for a moment.

Harry looked up as her footsteps came back towards him. She stood in front of him, watching him, her face caring. She had a soft, sad smile on her face, her eyes shining dully.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked. She sat down next to him, setting Luna's shoes aside. She stretched her legs out, letting her hands fall into her lap. She watched him as he looked down again, thinking about what to say.

He swallowed. "The prophecy... said, _'Neither one can live as the other one survives.'" _He repeated his words from Dumbledore's office._ "_It means... one of us is going to have to kill the other, in the end."

Her jade eyes softened even more; she looked ready to cry.

"Oh Harry..." she trailed off as she looked at him. She reached out, squeezing one of his hands. Her scars shined in the light of the dim torches. He looked up at her before looking back down, swallowing again.

Her eyebrows furrowed a bit and she kept his hand in hers. "Harry... what else is going on?" She questioned slowly.

He looked up; her eyes examined him deeply, her pair watching his own, emerald on emerald.

"Sirius," Harry said; his stomach twisted as he uttered the name. Her body tensed.

"It's my fault," Harry choked out, feeling pressure start to build in his eyes again.

"No... no, Harry, it's not," Abigail argued, eyes hardening. "You couldn't have known."

"I _should_ have known," Harry insisted. "If I hadn't made that stupid mistake-"

"Harry, you're only human," Abigail said. "People make mistakes. We can't control it, no matter how much we want to."

Harry looked away, a lump rising in his throat.

"You did all you could, Harry," Abigail said quietly. "Now... Sirius would want us to keep fighting. We have to keep going."

"Why didn't you let me kill her?" Harry asked, head swiveling slowly around to look at her.

"Because it wasn't you, Harry," Abigail whispered. "You're not a murderer. Sirius wouldn't have wanted you to become that. If you had crossed that line, Harry, you'd have been like her.

"But," Abigail went on, "I don't think you could have done it."

Harry's eyebrows creased. "Why?"

"Because_ it wasn't you_," Abigail pushed. "Harry, _you_ stopped yourself from killing Bellatrix. Even when you were so _ready _to do it... you just couldn'tve." She squeezed his hand again."You're strong, Harry."

He swallowed the lump, staring curiously at her. The corner of her mouth turned up; a bit of a smile.

"Do you miss him?" Harry asked.

Her smile fell. Her eyes were pools of despair and misery; he didn't know how someone could bottle up so much pain inside.

"Yes, um," she choked out, "a- a lot actually." She rubbed her free wrist under her eyes. She spoke in a choked-up voice,"I think of him all the time and how things might've been." She swallowed and collected herself, clearing her throat. "But I can't change the past. At least I know... that he's in a better place now. Somewhere where he doesn't have to be locked up all the time." Her eyes brimmed with more tears, but she didn't let them fall. "He's free, Harry."

"Where will you go?" Harry asked softly.

She sniffed and looked at him, eyes reddened but face calm. "Back to Tonks I guess." She smiled. "She really is... all I have left."

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerly.

She shook her head once, looking down at the ground. With a small sigh, she took her hand away from his; he hadn't realized it had still been there. She grabbed Luna's shoes and stood, brushing off her skirt. With one more glance at Harry, she started slowly towards the Great Hall.

Harry stood suddenly, hand gripped the banister to pull him up. "Wait... Abbie."

She stopped, looking around to face him. She blinked.

"What about Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Will you... be back?"

She hesitated for a moment, staring at him. His insides felt cold; why did she hold back? She wasn't going to say she was leaving, was she? She couldn't say that, after everything they had been through, that she wasn't coming back?

Finally, she smiled again. "Yes, I think so," she answered.

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief, only audible to his ears.

"Because," she said, catching his eyes, "you- all of you- were the_ best _thing that _ever _happened to me."

* * *

Students, dressed in their Muggle clothes, trampled down the path towards the train station, where the Hogwarts Express was already billowing and whistling. The day was bright and sunny and the small wood around them smelled like fresh flowers and pine needles. All around the station, students and helpers bustled: packing trunks, carrying animals, or saying goodbye to friends with a merry, "See you next year!"

Harry sped up to catch Ron, Hermione, and Abigail as they walked away from the thestral-drawn carriages.

"I've been thinking about something Dumbledore said to me," Harry said suddenly, grabbing their attention.

"What's that?" Hermione asked with a small smile.

Behind them, Luna, Neville, and Ginny caught up, listening in.

"That even though we've got a fight ahead of us, we have one thing Voldemort doesn't have," Harry said.

"Yeah?" Ron asked.

Harry looked around at his friends; the dreamy silver eyes of Luna, the calculating brown eyes of Hermione, the sky-tinted willing eyes of Neville, the vivacious coffee eyes of Ginny, the ocean-blue friendly eyes of Ron, and, finally, the caring and understanding jade eyes of Abigail.

Harry looked back at Ron, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Something worth fighting for."

**Well, I'm sad to say that this is the end of the first book. I can't believe that it's finally over, after 9 months. It's really been something special.**

**While I am very sad, I'm very happy to say that the next book will be starting soon. :) Very excited. The next book will take place in Harry's sixth year (as was probably obvious) and, hopefully, will be just as entertaining as this one.**

**Have a Harry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**

**BOOK 2 BEGINS 12-31-11. BE READY. **


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